A Race to Protect
by ASP AUS
Summary: A new Huntsclan student shoots Jake with a dart that keeps him in his dragon form. What happens when some citizens of New York find him unconscious and wounded? How will they sweep THIS under the carpet?
1. Unconscious on the Roof

**Author's Notes:** Hello all. Long time reader, first time writer. As a newbie in the writing department of this wonderful site, constructive criticism is welcome. Flames like "this sucks" without telling me _why_ it sucks will be ignored. Please review so I know if you want me to continue.

**Disclaimer:** Whatever you see in the show does not belong to me. However, the characters that I have made up do.

**A couple of things:**

1. If you see any writing errors (spelling, grammar) in any of my stories let me know. I hate reading stories with botched techniques, so I refuse to write like that.

2. I may be using characters of my own creation in multiple stories. Don't panic. The plots will NOT be connected unless I say otherwise. I'm just too lazy to make up new people each time.

3. I'll stick to the knowledge of the show as close as possible. If I do something different I will tell you. We're up to the Christmas one here in Australia.

4. I hate the animation in Season Two, so when I describe stuff I'll have Season One in mind. Except for the body shape of Jake's dragon from. Think of a blend between the two forms.

**About this story**

1. Rose is Huntsmaster's niece. The dynamics will work with this plot.

2. Rotwood did catch Jake in Season One, but didn't make the connection with him to the dragon when he walked out of the truck. So _The Rotwood Files_ in Season Two never happened.

3. Jake's about 16 in this fic.

* * *

**A Race to Protect**

**Chapter 1: Unconscious on the Roof**

It was a warm spring evening in New York. Inside an apartment building on the top floor, a father was preparing dinner for his wife and three kids. He opened the cupboard, pulled out a large pan and set it on the stove. He proceeded to raid the fridge's crisper for vegetables and started to chop the onions finely. The muffled noise from the rest of the family in the other room was quickly silenced as a loud crash was heard from above.

The man stopped chopping and looked up in annoyance. _Bloody racoons. I'll have to get Animal Control in to set more traps. Again._ Why his neighbours continued to put their garbage on the roof where animals could make a mess of it he never really understood.

"Molly," Michael called to his spouse, "Can you grab the torch and shoo those masked bandits off. I'm cooking dinner."

He heard the front door open and shut. Hopefully they hadn't knocked over another used grease bin. He had a yelling match with the guy who had dumped the stuff there.

The door opened again, "So," he asked her, "How many? Just one? Or a whole pack like last month?" Silence. Michael turned around to see why he wasn't answered and was stunned to see Molly pale and shaking. Her green eyes were wide and frightened; she seemed too shocked to move. Worried, he put down the knife. He walked over to her and cupped he chin in his hand. Molly had never looked this shaken, and she had faced a feral Great Dane for God's sake! Michael kept his voice as calm as he could. "Molly. Talk to me, dear. Did one of those overgrown rats bite you?" Snapped out of her daze, she looked as though she had seen a ghost and wasn't sure if he would believe her.

"No, Mic. I'm fine. …But it's not a raccoon. Y-you should come and see this. I-I don't know what it is. Well…I know what it _looks_ like, but that's not possible."

Before he could ask what it (whatever 'it' was) looked like, she dashed back down the floor's hall, towards the door to the roof. Michael followed. When they reached the roof, Molly handed him the flashlight and pointed around the corner.

"It's around there. Near Tom's cans, on the opposite wall. You can't miss it." The courage she had gotten from her husband had worn off. Obviously, she wasn't going anywhere near the creature.

Michael held the light in front of him and quietly moved toward the corner of the structure. When he got there he stoped and listened. Hearing nothing, he stuck his head around. His wife was right. Next to the disturbed paint cans lay something. Something big. Swallowing hard, he shone the torch on whatever the big thing was. Giving a small shriek in shock, he dropped the flashlight and scrambled back behind the corner.

"It's still there, isn't it?" Michael jumped. Molly must have followed him to the corner. He tried to calm his racing heart while nodding. Carefully, the shaken man listened again. Still hearing no movement, he motioned to his wife to stay where she was as he peeked around the corner again. The flashlight had landed with the light on the large animal. The light bounced off the red scales and illuminated the whole body. It was lying on its side, back up against the wall. Its mouth was open, revealing sharp white teeth and a forked tongue. The long body ended in an equally long red tail, curled back up towards the head with green spines run—

"It's injured." Michael jumped for the second time that night. Giving Molly a dirty look for scaring him, he opened his mouth to ask what the hell she was talking about.

The woman pointed to the back leg of the big lizard-like animal. Michael still refused to call it what he thought it looked like.

She was right, though. In its right leg protruded some sort of massive dart, making a small trickle of blood run down the leg and onto the concrete. The man also realised it seemed to be unconscious and its breathing was shallow.

Realising the creature was hurt, Molly's womanly instincts must have kicked in. That was the only conclusion the man could come up with to explain what happened next.

She slowly walked around the corner and carefully put her hand on the wounded leg and started to stroke it. As Mic got closer he heard the love of his life cooing to the massive beast.

"There, there. Nothings gonna hurt you." Raising her voice a little and turning her head towards him, she continued. "Mic. Go get one of the kids to call the vet…No, wait. Scratch that. Get them to call Annie. He doesn't look too good."

Annie was the local animal expert and a long time friend. She wasn't technically a vet, but she could pass off as one if she wanted to. Not sure whether to leave his wife up here with that thing, he hesitated. She made a shooing motion with her hand. "Go. I don't think he'll get up anytime soon."

Racing back to the door he almost ran over his two eldest boys. After arguing over who was going to call Annie, the youngest, Jordan, lost. Whining about being hungry, he trudged back inside. "So what'd ya find, Dad?" the older boy asked.

Too impatient to wait for his father's response he scamped across the roof to see for himself. Panicked that he might get hurt, Mic quickly followed.

"Josh, be careful. He could wake up." He didn't have to worry because when he got there Josh was a few feet away from the beast, mouth open and eyes as wide as saucers. The young are always said to be more open to the strange and unbelievable than the adults. His 12-year-old son was no exception.

"Cool. A dragon! Can we keep him? Please, pleeaasseee." Shaking off his stupor the kid ran up to the creature…the dragon, took the massive head in his hands and opened its mouth wider so he could have a better look. "Do ya think it breaths fire? 'Cause that'd be sooo cool!"

Getting over his son's unfazed reaction to the thing that shouldn't even exist, Molly planted her feet, put her hands on her hips and scolded him in a crisp voice.

"Of cause we can't keep him. He could belong to someone. And where, pray tell, do you think we can keep something that big. Besides, he's wounded, so get off him. You could make it worse." Pouting, the boy put the head back on the ground and sat down about a foot away from it.

Mic sighed. Between his overprotective wife and curious children, not to mention Annie's questions when she showed up, it was going to be a long night.


	2. Exposed

**Author's Notes:** You like my work. Yay for me! If no one has complaints about my writing style or plot I'll be a good author and continue.

* * *

**A Race to Protect**

**Chapter 2: Exposed **

Dr Anne Clarkson reached over her desk for her bottle of Coke. She was going to need all of the caffeine and sugar she could get. When Jordan called her at the clinic saying that his parents found an injured animal on the roof, Anne thought it was something like a dog or cat. That had been several hours ago.

Within that time, she had gotten the 'unidentified creature' off the roof with the help of her contacts in the ASPCA, checked his injuries (damaged right hind leg plus a fractured left wing) and put him into the back of the clinic to recover. She had failed to control one factor, though. The media.

Somehow, pictures of the poor red beast had gotten to the press and they were currently camped outside the small business demanding answers regarding the 'dragon'. There was nothing Anne could tell them that the pictures didn't already provide, so she stayed sitting at her desk waiting for her new patient to wake up.

The doctor looked up. She could hear someone swiftly walking down the hallway towards her. The image of her secretary burst in, looking flushed and harassed. Anne felt a pang of guilt. While she was walled up in her office, Stella was forced to sit through the bombardment at the front desk with a polite smile on her face.

"Doc, you _really_ have to talk to these people," she panted. "They found out you're not technically a vet and are threatening to bring the police down on you if you don't come out and answer them."

Anne shot out of her seat. No, she wasn't a vet. She was an animal psychologist, but she ended up treating wounds as well. Her customers preferred her over a lot of the qualified vets because she was cheaper and gave a thorough check-over. Anne had more hands-on experience then some senor veterinarians, and as far as her customers were concerned, did a better job. Hence, the certified profession hated her.

Throwing her coat and ID tag on, she left the room at a brisk pace. As the woman reached the door separating the staff area and the foyer, she took a deep breath and mentally checked what she was going to say. After collecting herself, Dr Clarkson walked outside.

* * *

Jake's mind began to surface from the sea of unconsciousness. He tried to open his mouth to yawn. Finding that he couldn't he started to get up to stretch. A sharp pain exploded in his head as he fell back down onto something soft. His eyes snapped open._ Aaahhh!_ _What the hell? Did I get hit by a bus?_ Fully alert now, he looked around. The first things he noticed were that he was still in his dragon form and in a cage.

_Not good. That new pompous Huntsboy must have found me. I can't _believe_ I got shot down and caught by those idiots._ From what the boys had been talking about, Jake figured that the Huntsmaster was away, Rose was left in charge and Number 88 and 89 were out showing the new jerk the ropes. _That's the blind leading the blind, right there._

He snorted in discontent and tried to revert to his human form to see if he could slip through the bars. He couldn't change. _That's never happened before._ A little panicked, he turned his head to see where the previous pain had come from. _Strange. Since when does the Huntsclan bandage their trophy's wounds? _Pause._ And why aren't I a wall hanging right now?_ Realising that something was very odd he inspected his surroundings with more scrutiny.

His back leg was bandaged from his 'hip' to his 'ankle' and the opposite wing was in some sort of splint. The reason he couldn't open his mouth before became evident. Someone had muzzled him. The soft surface he was laying on turned out to be a large mattress and there were bowls of water and what looked suspiciously like dog food at the front of the cage.

The cage itself was against the corner of the room, farthest from the open door. As Jake placed his attention on the door, he heard voices. Straining to listen, he paled as he heard what the top story was about on the late night news. _Oh SHIT. The __Dragon Council'll skin me alive for this._

* * *

Susan was glued to the TV set before the interview started. Jonathan had called her when the first pictures and footage was shown. She hadn't left the couch since. Not knowing there was a cause for concern, her husband had got up and left the room muttering about escaped exotic lizards half an hour ago.

The screen showed a small white building with a sign that read _Clarkson's Animal Care._ Susan didn't need to be there to know just about every journalist from every newspaper and TV network were there. The people near the building surged forward, increasing the number of questions and their volume.

Out of the front door came a woman with long brown hair and brown eyes wearing what seemed to be a white lab coat and an ID tag around her neck. As the camera zoomed up on her face a caption appeared: _Dr Anne Clarkson, Animal Psychologist_.

The excited mass turned into a frenzy, with people shouting questions from all different directions. "Doctor, it is true that you have a living dragon in your clinic?" "Doctor, was the creature trying to eat the local pets?" "Doctor, are its wounds fatal?" "Where did it come from?" "Is it really as big as a bus?" "What are your comments on the rumours of putting the creature in the local zoo for tourism?" "Doctor. Is it true that it burnt rescuers when they got it off the roof?" The questions were endless.

The besieged woman had had enough. She pulled something silver from her breast pocket, put it to her mouth, and blew. The ear-splitting sound was awful. Even protected by the fact that it was coming from the TV, Susan had to clamp her hands over her ears. Naturally, the journalist copped the brunt of it. The voice stopped.

Satisfied that she could be heard, the doctor spoke into the nearest microphone. "I'm sure you all have good questions. However, I won't be able to answer them all now. I'm only able to tell you what I know, which at this stage is minimal. First of all, I am reluctant to put a name to this creature because I have never seen one before. The term 'dragon' is mostly associated with magic, purely outside the scope of science as we know it. Thus, I am refusing to call it that. Second of all, the creature was found unconscious on a rooftop with an injured hind leg and a fractured wing. It was not dangerous to anyone or anything at the time. Since he's (yes it's a male) still unconscious I can't determine his temperament. Thirdly, the wounds are not lethal; he should make a full recovery. And fourthly, there is no way in hell I'm going to let this beautiful animal be put in a zoo! A very large protected Wildlife Park, perhaps. But NOT a zoo. If you want more information, write down your questions along with your contact details, give them to my secretary and we'll get back to you as soon I have the answers." With that, Dr Clarkson turned on her heels and stormed back into the clinic.

Susan's shoulders slumped in relief. Her baby was safe, for the moment. She suddenly stiffened. About the only thing that could (or would) harm a dragon was the Huntsclan. They knew where he was now. She got up, ignoring her protesting neck and ran to the phone to call her father. Jake might be in good hands, protected from greedy businessmen, but that was no protection against those evil bastards.

Only after she finished (he had seen the news) and hung up the phone that she realised something foreboding: the days of the magical community being a secret might be numbered.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** fixed some typos... several years after posting...


	3. What Will We Do?

**Author's Notes:** To MidnightzStorm: The request for more focus on the main characters has been noted. I'll try my best. Ta!

Sorry for the late post, my logon to doesn't like me on my computer, so I used a friends' computer. Even then it didn't like the scene breaks, so I modified them. Here are multiple chapters as compensation.

* * *

**A Race to Protect**

**Chapter 3: What Will We Do?**

Huntsgirl was not happy. Richard (the new student the Huntsmaster had put under her care before he left) seemed totally oblivious to the catastrophe that he had created less than three hours ago. He lay on the couch in the drawing room, lazily watching his 'superior' pace back and forth on the brink of tearing her hair out. Numbers' 88 and 89 were watching from the relatively safe distance at the door. A dragon's discovery by the local population also had consequences for the Clan. If the magical community was exposed, it would be a lot harder for the Huntsclan to continue their activities unnoticed by the general public. A fact that she was trying to convey to the most arrogant and obnoxious young man she had ever met.

"What's the big deal, Rosebud? So the beasts get a little attention. Won't that help us know where they are?" She gritted her teeth. Richard was the only Huntsclan member that she protested calling her 'Rose'. He was a few years older then her, thus thought that he should be in charge. To make matters worse, he called her 'Rosebud', 'Sweetheart' and 'Sugar' and acted as if she would collapse into his arms at any second. Thorn was starting to think her uncle merely dumped him on her so he wouldn't have to put up with him. Or he did it as a joke. Steven had an odd sense of humour at times.

Thorn considered beating the boy to a pulp for his stupidity. Unfortunately, Richard's father could probably have her punished for that. Never mind that she out-ranked him and the snobbish Pom deserved it.

"It's a 'big deal' because if the magical creatures are exposed to the world, so will we. They'll make sure of it. _That_ will be a problem if…no, _when_ the government decides to protect them from poachers. So we'll end up having the police and the FBI breathing down our necks! Does it sound like a 'big deal' now!?" The simple explanation worked, Richard started to look worried. "The good news is the dragon will probably wake up, revert to his human form, and walk out without anyone being the wiser." Slightly calmed by the realisation, Thorn sat down in the opposite armchair. Her boyfriend could get out of the mess without her interference. The girl failed to notice the nervous glances the boy was making to the others at the door.

"Hay, Dick," Number 89 smirked over the top of his partner's head. "Didn't you say the dart was gonna keep him as a dragon." The boys might be almost useless hunters, but they were smart enough to know what was coming next.

* * *

Lao Shi paced the floor of his shop. Despite the doctor's orders, there were still a fair number of people outside Dr Clarkson's clinic. With all those people and film equipment, it was impossible for Lao to get to his grandson unnoticed, in either of his forms. Fu Dog was howling and crying in the corner, prophesying everything bad that could happen. The old man was also concerned on what Jake would do when he regained consciousness. "Fu Dog," he snapped. "Pull yourself together. Panicking will not aid us in helping my grandson in escaping his current predicament." Fu quietened.

"Ya right, Gramps. 'Sides, it could be worse." As the 600-year-old canine got off the ground and sat on the front counter, he enquired, "Sooo. Got a plan?" Before the former Chinese Dragon could answer, a thumping sound was heard from the roof. The sound was followed by a familiar voice, "Dragon, Get out here. There is large problem regarding your student that affects everyone!"

Unsure why Rose was acting like, well…Thorn, the old man shifted into his dragon form and climbed the stairs. Outside, the waxing moon showed Huntsgirl leaning on her staff, with 88 and 89 cowering behind her and looking as if they wanted to be anywhere else.

Realising the meaning of her odd behaviour, the elder dragon played along. He raised himself up and glared down at the three. "You have a lot of nerve coming here, even more so without your master. And what is it about my student?"

Several bocks away, a man walking his dog could hear a long string of angry words in a foreign language.

* * *

Jake was pretending to be out cold. Rather difficult when two people were discussing your fate a few feet away. He had one eye cracked open to see what was going on. Anne, the one who had bandaged him, was talking to a senior ASPCA officer on what she had found. "If you look at the pictures of his teeth, you'll notice that his cavities have been filled in. That, and his well maintained nails and hair are the main evidence to suggest that he either belongs to someone or has some sort of keeper. If he was violent and aggressive towards humans there would've been reports, at the very least people going to hospital for massive claw wounds. There hasn't been any, so I don't think he's a threat to us."

The doctor took a breath and sat back in the wooden chair. The ASPCA officer (Stan, if Jake remembered correctly) had told Clarkson that he could stay in the clinic until he healed. There was no point in moving him out just to move him back in to assess his temperament.

Stan leaned forward and gave Anne a thoughtful expression. "Just wonderin, Doc. What ya gonna do with 'im once he's better."

The young dragon stiffened. This was the moment of truth for the good doctor.

"Well…if I'm right about him, I don't see the problem in releasing him just outside the city. He'll probably head off to wherever he came from. I'm not too keen on him becoming the main city attraction or a lab experiment." Jake liked that idea, a lot. Unfortunately the local Council probably wouldn't let her, as Stan bluntly stated.

"I'm sure I can do something. If he's tame, I'm sure the rest of New York won't care," she argued. She would have continued if she wasn't interrupted by a sneeze from behind her.

**

* * *

**

It seemed that the 'dragon's' muzzle had irritated its nose. The poor thing blinked in surprise and lifted its head to look at Anne. She slowly stood up and crouched down in front of the bars. "Hello, my scaly friend." She spoke as if she were talking to a family pet. "You've had quite a night, haven't you? You're probably sore and hungry right now. Don't worry, I'll take good care of you and keep those nasty paparazzi at bay." The big head tilted as if he was deciding what to make of her. As if to confirm her statement, a low gurgle was heard from the beast's belly. Anne inched over towards the bowls and gestured to them. "Here you are. If you're still hungry I've got more." The animal looked at her, looked at the bowls, then cocked its head again as if to say 'Huh?' Then it hit her. The muzzle.

Snickering from behind alerted her to that fact that Stan had witnessed the mistake. Anne whacked her forehead against the bar, cursing herself for a folly even a newbie vet wouldn't make. Now he was awake, muzzled AND hungry. Even a docile animal can get pushy when they wanted food.

Trying not to get frustrated with herself she raised her voice so Stan could hear her. "Can you go to the top cupboard on your left and bring me the hand on a stick, please?" Still chuckling, the man obeyed. As he passed Anne the fake hand, she readied herself for the first test. "Hopefully, he'll turn out to be used to people so we don't have to sedate him." She muttered to no one in particular.

The creature had its ears pricked up and was watching the hand curiously as Anne passed it though the cage bars. She lightly bumped it against his closest front claw. Not getting much of a response, positive or negative, she slowly lifted the dummy appendage until it reached under his chin. The doctor flipped the gadget so the fingers were in the air and began to carefully run them from his chin to his throat, and back again. That got a response.

A cross between a whimper and a purr emitted from the animal's throat as he stretched his body forward and slightly propped himself up on his three good legs to expose more of his neck. What really surprised Anne was what the big winged lizard did next. He got completely up off the mattress, positioned his body parallel to the bars and gently rolled on his side. His intent was obvious. He wanted Anne to give him a belly-scratch.

Stunned at the animal's laid-back reaction, the young woman didn't notice the older man come up behind her. Instead of using the fake arm, Stan stuck his own into the cage and proceeded to rub on the yellow coloured underside of the creature. The overgrown lizard closed its eyes and relaxed into the attention he was receiving. "Ya a good boy, an't ya? Ya a friendly fella, alright. Now, you gonna let us take that nasty thing off ya gob?" As if the docile animal understood him, he rolled back onto his stomach and nuzzled his head against Stan's outstretched palm.

_This will be far easier then I thought_, the woman concluded as the officer proceeded to remove the offending item. Little did she know that it was going to get a lot more complicated.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** In the summary of _The Ski Trip_, Huntsgirl is referred to as 'Thorn', even though no one calls her that in any of the episodes. My guess is that the Huntsmaster named her 'Thorn' and she chose the name 'Rose' as the 'good school girl' part of he personality. Basically, she needs two names for her two identities.


	4. Stolen

**A Race to Protect**

**Chapter 4: Stolen**

It was not long before dawn and the American Dragon was trying not to die of boredom while coming up with a plan of action. He _could_ have talked to his 'keepers', explaining the situation. But what was the point? Nothing would have changed. He still would have been injured, unable to change forms (he blamed the dart for that) and stuck there due to the media. Instead, Jake had acted like a lovable puppy. The theory was that if he acted domesticated, Anne would think he belonged to someone and let him go.

The young dragon yawned. Thanks to Stan's sandwiches, he was no longer hungry (Jake _refused_ to eat the dog food). After the doctor was sure he wouldn't bite, she had allowed the gruff but soft-hearted man to feed him the rest of his lunch. The_ rest_, because the hungry dragon had spied the man-made substance while Anne had tried to get him to eat the dried canine food. Out came his long tongue, and SNAP, the peanut butter and jelly coated bread was in Jake's mouth before the man could squeak.

The action had worked in the red lizard's favour. The doctor was now convinced that he didn't see people as a threat or food.

Still smirking about the man's reaction to the theft and secure in the knowledge that he was safe for now, Jake settled himself on the mattress, intent on getting some sleep.

BANG! His head shot up. That gunshot sounded close. BANG! Jake limped to the cage door, unlatched it, and hobbled over to the window. He reared his body up, holding onto the bars for support and searched for the cause of the noise. He didn't like what he saw.

**

* * *

**

Gramps had had to wait until the wee hours of the morning before he could make his move. He had sent the Huntsclan students out to listen in on the reporters, and to alert Fu to anything of interest. The old man was reluctant to ask what had happened to the one that had darted Jake. Meanwhile, the Sharpaé had been working on a healing potion and had just finished it.

Fortunately, most of the news crews had left, realising that Dr Clarkson was staying inside the clinic. As the blue dragon flew over New York City he continued to ponder what the public's reaction could be. If luck was on their side, they might come to the conclusion that his grandson was a rare breed of gigantic reptile. The old man shook his head. People loved the unexplained, magic included. There was no way they were going to call him anything other than what he resembled. Remembering the doctor's speech, Lao reconsidered that theory. _There might be some hope of them deciding otherwise. After all, magic is not classed as scien_–

BANG! Shocked out of his thoughts, the aging dragon stopped in mid-air, franticly looking around to see where the shot came from. BANG! Almost grazing a wing, Lao realised the gun was aimed at HIM. Lao Shi had experienced a lot in his life, but had never been shot at with an average firearm. Faced with the unfamiliar, he panicked and dove for the nearest cover: an open window of an abandoned warehouse.

As he entered he could hear people gasp on the street. They had seen him. With few options, Lao reverted into his human form and crept out the back of the building. Gramps surveyed the spectators. The buzz of excited voices, held cameras and phones confirmed his fears: he had been captured on film.

The old man quietly moved between the crowds, towards home as the sun started to rise. His worry increased. There was no chance that he could approach his grandson today.

**

* * *

**

"No, I don't condone the policeman's actions. It was stupid and reckless!" At the muttered comment off to the side, the pissed off doctor continued. "I don't care if he was still in training, you don't go around shooting things that startle you!"

Anne put her hand on her temple in an attempt to quell the headache that was arising. Stella had woken her up at the crack of dawn babbling about a cop shooting at another dragon that was flying around about a block away.

As the woman arrived at the last sighting, a rundown warehouse, it became clear that the animal was long gone. The media had split into two, one part harassing Anne, the other an officer that looked like he wanted to disappear.

The annoyed woman shoved through the mob, reporters and bystanders alike. "You're the one that shot him?" The junior cop meekly nodded. Anne opened her mouth to unload the day's frustration on him. "What the _hell_ where you thinking?! Has it become police policy to shoot at anything that is unfamiliar? You could have hit something!" Mentally counting to ten in an effort to calm herself down she asked her next question. "Did you at least see what it was doing here?" The bewildered officer nodded again.

He gestured over to the other side of the street, above one of the buildings. "It came from there." His finger travelled to the centre of the street, "I fired twice at, err…near it there, and it flew into that window over there." Finished pointing, he clamped his hands behind his back, looking like a little boy that was in trouble. Anne followed the path further and realised where it had been heading. _My clinic. Great, now I have to watch for reptilian visitors too. _

As the doctor's shoulders slumped, she turned around to head back. That's when she heard more shots, followed by screeching tires. Ann froze. With a sinking feeling, she sprinted as fast as she could towards the noise. Outside her clinic rested a large van that looked like a vault on wheels. A man sat in the driver's seat wearing a balaclava and a rifle on the dashboard. Yelling and cursing could be heard from inside the small building. Other people with black masks and weapons started to emerge from the structure. The woman was helpless as the masked men dragged something trapped within a large net towards the armoured vehicle.


	5. Conflicts

**Author's Notes:** Thanks to CardcaptorKatara for the name 'Lucky' for Jake.

Thanks to Shadow B. Panther for the name 'Ryu', the Japanese word for dragon. I had chosen the name to be given to Lao instead of Jake because of his Asian (or Eastern) appearance.

And thanks to everyone else that gave names. I might use them in future chapters or stories. I shall give you credit if I do.

* * *

**A Race to Protect**

**Chapter 5: Conflicts**

Lao dashed back towards his original destination. Unfortunately, his instincts were right about the gunfire. As he reached the corner he saw masked men dragging a groggy looking Jake to a large imposing van. Lao searched the crowding streets and rooftops, looking for any sign of Rose or her charges. _Where are they?_ Realising he was on his own the old man slipped into an nearby alley and prepared to do something the Dragon Council would never forgive him for. After transforming, he opened his wings and launched himself out of his hiding place and landed on the robber's parked vehicle and snarled down at them.

At the sight of a healthy dragon a few of them dropped their rifles and ran away: they weren't being paid enough for this. The rest of the crooks composed themselves and aimed their weapons. "Do we shoot 'im, Boss?" one asked.

A big burly man with a bullet-proof vest closest to the van replied. "No. They're no use to us dead. There's enough room in our wheels for two. We'll get twice the pay. Barry, get another net!" A smaller man took something out of his pocket and threw it at the old dragon. Before the net had the chance to reach its target, it was slashed in two by swift, sharp claws. A few more men decided money wasn't everything and bolted. Lao took the moment of uncertainty to his advantage and dropped to the ground, placing himself between them and their getaway.

A long, snake-like tongue snapped out of his mouth, startling the men backwards. They scattered among the nearby cars and buildings, taking shelter from him. By this time the amount of parked vehicles in the street had gotten so large that the police cars couldn't get near the van. This both helped and hindered Lao Shi: the would-be kidnappers couldn't flee very fast with Jake, but the cops would have a hard time getting through. The two men carrying his grandson had hidden behind a small car, Jake's tail could be seen past the back wheel. Lao walked on all fours to the car, hopped on the roof and took a swipe at the nervous humans. Forgetting their weapons, they scrambled backwards and ended up slamming into a patrol car that had managed to squeeze in through the mass. Now he was faced with another problem: what to do with Jake.

Even if the younger dragon was fully alert (a nudge from the old man resulted in a groggy "what?") he wasn't able to fly away, and the potion he carried around his neck would only make him groggier. _Still, a healthy unsteady dragon is better than an injured one._ Lao took the light blue vial off his neck and uncorked it. BANG! The sudden noise startled him, making him drop the bottle and causing it to shatter on the asphalt. The shot had come from the 'Boss'. The police had moved in on foot and were trying to surround the gang. A few more officers were slowly edging towards the car the dragons were sheltering behind. Swearing in Chinese, the blue dragon focused his attention on the approaching cops. That's when he noticed that Dr Clarkson was with them.

**

* * *

**

Anne led the policemen slowly towards the two large reptiles (they weren't actually reptiles since they're warm-blooded, like the dinosaurs, but who cared about proper names at a time like this?). The hope was that the blue dragon was just as tame as the red one (Stan had dubbed him Lucky, because Anne was caring for him). Since Lucky had shown a rather high level of intelligence during her tests, perhaps as high as a raven, Anne hoped that the older-looking dragon would be able to come to the conclusion that they meant no harm and let them lead him to safety. That was if she approached him correctly.

Her main concern was his reaction to the policemen. He had gotten shot at by one, after all. However, they wouldn't allow her to go near them unaccompanied, because of the would-be thieves as well as the possibility of the large animal attacking her in fear. So she had reluctantly picked two officers that had some experience with animals and cautiously weaved her way between cars that motorists had abandoned due to sight of armed gunmen. A gunshot told her that the police had moved too close to the masked men for their liking. She saw the dark blue beast raise its head over the car roof to observe the direction of the shot, then take a quick look around the area. His (Anne was sure it was also a male) gaze fell on the small team coming towards him. He stepped over his companion, faced the direction of the gunfire and sat down. Anne breathed a sigh of relief: he didn't see them as a threat. Although, the older creature _had_ placed himself between his injured friend and the party. He may not see them as a threat, but he didn't trust them.

The group continued to move towards them, going from car to car to hide and shield themselves from the rain of bullets that was overtaking the street. Anne halted the men at the final one. "You two better stay here, he might think we're ambushing him if you come." After arguing with the officers, Anne relented. One officer would go with her, but he would do as she instructed.

The doctor quietly came out of their hiding place and carefully proceeded towards her targets, Alan hot on her heels. Since the animal had already seen her approach, she didn't need to worry about accidentally surprising it. As she reached its outstretched tail she stopped. Alan glanced at her, a silent question of what to do. To make their presence known, the young woman took the scaled appendage and gave it a gentle squeeze.

The Asian looking head swivelled around. He looked at Anne, gave a short snort and turned back around. Anne took that as a sign of acceptance and continued to move forward, lightly tapping up his body every few inches so he would know exactly where she was. She finally stood beside his raised chest, about a foot away from Lucky. She examined the new dragon's face: short snout, green patches between his eyes and brows and thin strips of grey hair coming out beside his nose. Definitely an Eastern appearance. _Maybe that's why Western and Eastern dragons were different in legend. One 'race' lived in the east, one in the west. The species must have evolved distinctive looks and traits_. Before she could muse about other things she heard about dragons to see if they might have any basis in fact Alan nudged her. Blushing for being caught unfocused, Anne set her eyes on Lucky.

"Alan," she breathed quietly. "Can you stand where I am now and watch Ryu, here. I'll check out his friend. Warn me if he looks like he'll take a swipe at me. I don't thing he will, though: he _did_ let us get this far." Before the man could protest, Anne shuffled forward so she was near the red dragon's belly.

"Careful, Doc. He's got his eye on you." The cop looked like he wanted to go over, but he dutifully stayed at his post.

Anne climbed over the drowsy animal and crouched down with her back facing the car. Now she could see if the dragon decided to come after her. _Not that it would do me much good_. Shaking her head at the unpleasant thoughts she checked Lucky over, making soothing sounds to him in the process. The good news was that he had no new injuries and the bandages and splint were holding up nicely. The bad news was that they had no careful way to move him.

"Oy! Hands up!" The order came from the roof of the car. A short, lanky guy with a balaclava held a rifle to the doctor's head. She had no idea how he had snuck up on them. Before the crook had time to react, the blue lizard swiped the rifle out of his hand and picked him up in a massive claw. "Put me down you overgrown iguana! Take that!" With a grunt the masked man pulled a spray can from his belt and unleashed its contents into the dragon's eyes. The poor thing cried out in surprise and pain, dropping his assailant. In the confusion Alan drew his gun and took aim. But there was no need, the man had slipped on the car roof and hit his head on the road. However, the damage was done. Anne stayed out of the way while the unfortunate creature tried in vain to rub the painful substance out of his eyes. He had been blinded with pepper spray.

**

* * *

**

Lao silently cursed. Because he had been watching what Dr Clarkson was doing, he had failed to notice the armed man's approach. Now he couldn't see. And the more he rubbed his eyes, the more they burned.

As the old man stumbled around on all fours he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Easy, boy. Calm down." It was the doctor. Lao stood still and listened to what she was saying. "Alan. Can you help me lead him over to that alley? He should be safe there. Then help me try and move the other over as well." At a nudge from the woman beside him he was guided to a less noisy, cooler spot. Realising he couldn't do much in his current state, Lao lay down and waited for the gunfire to stop.

After the shooting ceased he could hear voices coming towards him. With the aid of his acute hearing Lao identified the main conversation. He cringed at what he heard. Jake's current 'carer' Dr Clarkson, by order of the local government, had been replaced with a qualified veterinarian: Dr Lindsey Chapman. Jake would also be moved to a 'more secure' facility and - if they could catch him – Lao would be going too.

To her credit, Dr Clarkson wasn't going down without a fight. "I still don't see why you have to take Ryu as well. The only thing wrong with him is his vision, and that can be cleared up with a bit of milk."

The new vet had an answer this. "For comparative data. To make sure we have the right basis for heart rate, blood pressure and so forth. Besides, taking those measurements now, while we have the chance, is far better than trying to trap more later on for the same thing. Don't you agree, doctor?" Anne had nothing to say to that. Lao had the distinct impression that Anne would have – as his grandson said so often – lain down some smack-daddy on her opponent if the media wasn't present. Fortunately, she knew how to use them to her advantage.

"Well, since you have made up your mind on taking them both, I would highly advise you to allow me to accompany you. I am an expert on animal behaviour and have the ability to handle potentially dangerous animals with minimum risk. As the old saying goes: you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. I also have most of the information you would want on the red fellow."

Since the exchange was most likely filmed, Dr Chapman had to accept, if rather indignantly. Lao gritted his teeth in worry. Clarkson didn't like Chapman and visa versa.

His vision was clearing and he could see a group of men with those nooses on a stick. Lao had to leave before he was taken too. He spread his wings and flew straight up, none of the men having time to react. The former Chinese dragon landed on the edge of the building and watched them haul Jake into another van. The old man knew that if he tried to intervene he would either be chased away or captured. He followed the van to another building, the workers looking up at him every so often while they carted his grandson inside. The situation was going from bad to worse.

**

* * *

**

**Author's Note: **

Yes, the dinosaurs were warm-blooded. I found out via The Discovery Channel (or The History Channel, I forget which).

Pepper spray (also referred to as Mace) has the same compound in it as chillies, and the burning sensation lessens with milk.


	6. Out of the Frying Pan

**Author's Notes:**

I now realise how optimistic I was when I said I would note _everything_ that I altered from the canon. From now on I will only note radicle changes: either in my **Author's Notes** or self explained in the story.

For example, I have been reminded that Lao Shi doesn't have wings in the show, but it would be impossible for Anne to have a scientific reason for his flight. Thus, my plot needed him to have wings; therefore I felt the change didn't need to be explained.

Keep commenting, though. It's the only way I'll learn and improve.

* * *

**A Race to Protect**

**Chapter 6: Out of the Frying Pan**

Thorn wanted to scream. Or slay something. Preferably the idiots who had accidentally trapped her in the net.

While watching the reporters scurry around like ants far below their lookout point, 88 and 89 had gotten bored. To relieve their minds they had practiced sparring, with Huntsgirl as the reluctant referee. One would pretend to be a dragon while the other would try to 'slay' him. Needless to say if the session was real, it would have been a stalemate: both were beyond hopeless. Thorn had tired of their comical attempt to improve their skills and turned around to look down onto the street.

A gunshot had alerted her to the policeman that had taken aim at the older dragon. Knowing it wouldn't be wise to be seen, the young Clansmembers silently watched as he flew into an open window opposite their building. The older teenager had spotted the aged man sneak around the back towards the direction he had come from. Now relaxed, she turned her attention onto the officer, being swamped by the media. Thorn had been about to rise and get into a better position to hear them when – THUD.

Something had her pinned to the ground.

Fearing an attack, the adolescent's instincts took over and she had rolled to the side. It was only when Thorn stopped on her back due to her tangled legs that she realised what had happened: she had been caught in a net. Huntsgirl's charges had raced up to her, babbling apologies. As they struggled to undo the webbing, all three heard more gunshots, yelling, followed by lots more gunfire.

By the time the dopes had freed her, it was too late. They were just in time to see Jake's form disappear inside the back of a van and taken to another building. As the red dragon was carried into the new structure, a woman in a lab coat watched Loa sit on the edge of a nearby apartment block. Thorn did not like that look.

* * *

Jake came to complete consciousness to find himself muzzled and his uninjured leg chained to a wall. Shaking off the effect of the drug he surveyed his new environment. The room itself was bare except for the steel bars that went from one side of the room to the other. His side was on the opposite side of the door. After some trials the young dragon realised he couldn't remove the gag, squeeze though the bars, or bend them. He only hoped that he had been caged by the right side.

After what seemed like hours, the door on the far wall opened. Men armed with what looked like small cattle prods walked into the room. Once they deemed it safe, one permitted the two people outside the threshold to enter. He recognised the second individual instantly: it was Anne. And she wasn't happy.

"I still don't see why all of _this_," she waved in the direction of the guards, "is necessary. Out near the front: yes, but not in here. Lucky's very friendly and used to people. He wouldn't attack unless someone, I don't know…belted him on the head with a crowbar. If you ask my opinion, it's a waste of resources."

The other woman glared at Anne as if she were a large pest. "I _didn't_ ask for your opinion, _Doctor_," she made the title sound as if it was a sick joke. "The only reason you're even allowed in this complex is because of your animal handling skills. And the data you've given me is next to useless. Only body measurements, x-rays and basic health factors; facts that anyone could have gotten from him. Did you at least check to see if he has some sort of ID tag or microchip?"

Anne glanced at him before answering. "None. It is my professional opinion that he is wild. And when I say wild I only mean it in a domesticated sense. It would be almost impossible keep him or any others inside the city limits without being seen. My guess is that they were just passing through." It took every ounce of self-control Jake had to look uninterested in the conversation. Anne had flat out _lied_ to her. Why, he couldn't tell.

"Too bad," was the thoughtful response. "I would have liked to have talked to his owner." He sneaked a look at Anne only to see that she was frowning at her colleague as if to say: _To buy him off them and search for a good taxidermist, I bet. _

Jake listened to their constant theories and possibly reasons for his appearance in New York. Anne maintained her bogus theory that he was just passing NYC for another destination. Chapman believed it: she dealt with animals' bodies, not their habits. It sounded like Chapman wanted the clearance to sell him off to the government for research (and a hefty fee) while Anne wanted to let him fly off home once he recovered. The more the American Dragon heard, the more he was convinced that Lindsey was bad news; it seemed that Anne had already known that.

They finally left him in peace, arguing what to do with him all the while. All he could do was pray to whatever divine being existed that Anne would get her way.

* * *

The outside security thwarted both Huntsgirl and Lao Shi from gaining access to the building. The roof had no door, the windows were bared and electrified (88 discovered the latter the hard way), and multiple pairs of guards patrolled the perimeter. Even if they _did_ get in, the place was probably riddled with guards and security check-points.

The young apprentices summed up what they were all thinking, "This is hopeless." "That thing is like a brick vault. Not even the Huntsman could get passed all that."

"Even the most fortified defence has a weak point. All we need to do is find it." Unfortunately, even the wise dragon seen unconvinced by his own words.

Thorn started to pace the length of the apartment rooftop. Her thinking was constantly interrupted by her whining charges. Thorn did her best to ignore them until 89 muttered something about floor plans. She froze. "89. What did you just say? About the floor plans," she quickly narrowed her vague question.

The boy took off his glasses, squinted in her direction, and started to clean them with his shirt. "Errm… No use lookin' for 'em 'cause, with how tight it is, they're probably classified."

_No problem. One hacker comin' up._ "You're a genius! If I didn't have a boyfriend, I'd kiss you!" The younger adolescent seemed stunned by this change of mood, but quickly contained himself and puckered his lips, murmuring that what he didn't know won't hurt him. Instead of the expected reward, the boy ended up on his back with a stinging sensation and a big red mark on his face.

"Stay here, you lot. See if you can find out what's going on in there by eavesdropping, I'm off to see if a friend of mine can get us those plans. And just because you don't have to worry about being seen, I would advise that you make sure you don't present an easy target. They might try to catch you." This last instruction was aimed at Jake's grandfather. Before anyone could ask what she had planned, Thorn was gone.

Not long after Huntsgirl's departure Lao noticed an ASPCA officer park his car on the curb below him. A few minutes later Dr Clarkson emerged from the structure and waved to the man. The middle-aged fellow got out and leaned on the side of his vehicle and waited for her to arrive. With his acute hearing, the dragon could hear the exchange without moving.

"So, what do ya think of the new Doc?" Lao assumed he was referring to Dr Chapman.

"I don't like her. I'm starting to wish dragons _could_ breathe fire so Lucky can roast her. She's so up herself! And the worst part is that when she looks at him, I swear she sees dollar signs." The doctor ranted for a couple more minutes about work ethics until she calmed down.

"This your professional or personal opinion? And I thought ya didn't like callin' 'em dragons 'cause all that voodoo crap." Although Lao had just seen Anne's companion, he started to get the impression that he wasn't a threat to him or his grandson.

"Both," came the quick reply. "And everyone else are calling them that, so might as well jump on the bandwagon. I think she's up to something, Stan. The good news is she bought the 'just passing through' story. I'd hate to think of what she'd try to do if she knew they _lived_ here."

Stan raised his eyes skywards and gave the blue dragon a small smile. Lowering his head, a frown crossed his features. "That ain't gonna hold for long, Doc. Since the pics went on the tube the department's got swamped with e-mails of people seein' Lucky goin' back a few years. And cases where Old Blue up there been seen for the last 25 or so. Others been seen too, but mainly those two." The old dragon stiffened. He hadn't realised so many had been aware of their presence; and for that amount of time. His stomach tightened as he considered the implications. He could think of only a handful of reasons that they hadn't been exposed earlier: a) the people believed it was a trick of their imaginations, b) they thought they were something else, c) no one believed the witnesses, or d) knowing they wouldn't be believed the witnesses kept quiet. There would be no mistakes or disbelief now.

Lao was jolted out of his prophecies of doom by Anne's surprised gasp. "25 years! I didn't realise they had such a long lifespan. If that's true, it means that they outlive most land and air mammals."

Stan raised an eyebrow. "You think that's good. One old lass said she'd seen this guy (he jerked his thumb upwards) in Hong Kong 'bout _40_ years ago." Anne looked rather pale and started to sway. It was obvious she was struggling to absorb the new information and think of the possible repercussions. Stan steadied her and allowed her to lean on his shoulder.

"Stan." Her voice was so quiet that Lao had to strain to listen. "Who else knows about these e-mails?"

"Just our force. Why?"

"Good. Don't tell anyone else, especially not the press. If my hunch is right about Lindsey, the less she knows; the better." The doctor took several deep breaths to compose herself and then spoke in her normal tone. "Let's get something to eat. It's well passed lunch and I'm starved." She cocked her head towards where Lao was sitting, a small smile on her face. "Poor Ryu's probably just a hungry as I am. I don't think he's moved from that roof since Lucky got carted away. I'm going to see if I can get up there and coax him to eat something." Stan raised a quizzical eyebrow. Lao wasn't sure if it was because of the plan or the name. Maybe both.

Anne shrugged. "'Ryu' is the Japanese name for 'dragon'. I thought it was appropriate. And I don't think we'd be in any danger. I mean, he _did_ let me treat Lucky when he was out of it, as well as letting me lead him around while he was as good as blind." Argument proven, the woman started down the street with Stan close behind.

Lao took this opportunity to stretch his cramped muscles. The idea of a free meal was appealing, considering the fact that he hadn't eaten since his near-dawn breakfast. After sending the Huntsclan students (who had been oblivious to the conversation) to the other side of the building of interest to watch the back doors, the aging dragon waited.


	7. Into the Fire

**Author's Notes:** Hello, all. As you can see, I'm still alive! Thank you for your comments and ideas. Also, thank you for putting up with this slow pace. Writers block sucks. It's linking my plot ideas together that I have problems with.

* * *

**A Race to Protect**

**Chapter 7: Into the Fire**

"Fine. I'll let you have him for a cut of what your boss is giving you lot to pull this off… No, more… Look, I'm doing you a favour… Your botched attempt on that poor excuse for a veterinarian's clinic is not my problem! You should be thanking your lucky stars that I'm willing to negotiate… Okay, that's more like it. Pick him up tonight, I don't trust that nosy bitch not to snoop around…If you _have_ to, you can take her to handle the scaled brute, no skin of my nose… Deal. There's an access tunnel from the sewer system to the basement, I'll leave the doors from there to his holding room unlocked. The guards will have to be taken out. Don't worry, there's not that many, everyone relies on the fact that no one can get in without being noticed… Okay, bye."

Chapman snapped her phone shut as a wide grin spread across her features. Who said that money couldn't buy happiness? And if all went to plan, Clarkson would be out of her hair as well. She placed the phone back in its charger and gazed out the third story window of her office. It was a pity she couldn't snag the blue one too.

* * *

Thorn bounded over the rooftops with a spring in her step. Spud had found an access tunnel in the floor plans that he had hacked into. She still marvelled at what that boy was capable of. Rose had found them both at the Carter residence; Grandma Carter wasn't letting them out of the house (except for school) because of the 'man-eating flying lizards'. Neither set of parents were in town, so the old woman had taken it upon herself to guard them against harm. Rose would have found the gesture sweet if it wasn't so annoying.

She had discovered (through Trixie's knack for nosiness), that Susan had called the school and told them Jake had chickenpox; and told her husband that he was staying at his grandfather's shop to recover. The young woman had a hard time believing that the family could pull the wool over Jonathon's eyes for so long.

As Huntsgirl reached the roof of the building that Loa had been waiting, she quickly dived behind the apartment's chimney stack. Careful not to be seen, Thorn peeked around her hiding place. She rolled her eyes at the sight. _Guys. No matter their age, they're still ruled by their stomachs._

Loa Shi, an intimidating-looking dragon if he wanted to be, was happily munching his way through an assortment of meat, vegetables and fruit laid out on a sheet-turned-picnic cloth.

Using another chimney stack as a backrest, Dr Clarkson was calmly writing in a notebook as if there was nothing out of the ordinary going on. Irritated by the vet and her companion, Thorn huffed, sat down and waited for them to leave.

* * *

Anne glanced up from her notes; Ryu must have been hungry, he had eaten most of the food he put his claws on. He was currently finishing off a chicken leg and eyeing the rest of the white meat. The behaviour specialist smirked at Stan, who was shaking his head in disbelief. "Do you think it was a dumb idea now, Stan?" she quipped.

The middle-aged man scratched his ear, "Not as dumb as givin' Lucky a belly-scratch, I 'spose." Satisfied with the answer, Anne continued with her notes. Dr Clarkson wasn't an expert on what to document regarding new species, but she knew the more she could observe and theorise, the better. _Okay, recap._ The doctor pulled a fresh sheet of paper and racked her brain for the points of interest that had been discovered about the creatures. She also tried to put correlating ideas near each other.

_Rather high intelligence (i.e. raven)._

_Protective of other dragons, therefore social (more in the group?). _

_Appear to be habituated (most likely due to habitat loss, thus being close to settlements). _

_Eyewitness and photo/video accounts confirms a long life-span (Ryu is over 40, certain he's 50+)._

_They can fly with excellent agility (not just glide), evidence that sight is their primary sense (probably colour, reason for vivid scale pattens?)._

_They're omnivorous. _

_Their 'claws' seem to have the same dexterity as primate hands. _

_No sign of fire-breathing (although a scientific possibility). _

_Eyewitness and photo/video accounts suggest constant occupancy of NYC (territory range?). _

Anne frowned at the list. _This is going to take a lot of thinking to do properly, I need a caffeine fix._

* * *

The woman stared at the blinking curser on the computer screen, hoping the wording for the document would miraculously fly out of her head and onto the keyboard. When she had gotten back to _Clarkson's Animal Care, _Anne was pounced on by the press. The doctor told them what she could; except that they lived in the city limits, that would freak the public out and cause a panic. The main point she stressed was that they weren't a threat to people. If the public ignored them, the dragons would ignore the public. After all, they had lived here unnoticed for years.

The media had begrudgingly let her through when they realised she wasn't saying any more. _Urban vampires. Instead of fangs they have cameras, and they still suck the life out of you._ Anne massaged her temple, trying to stay focused on the report for the council. _Why did I agree to do this? Oh, yeah. I don't trust Chapman to do it. Damn my conscience_.

She was so busy trying to concentrate on her work that Anne let out a squawk of surprise when the phone rang. _There is a God_, was her last thought as she picked the ringing item up. _And he hates me_, came the afterthought when she discovered who was on the other end.

"So sorry to interrupt your work, Clarkson," Lindsey didn't sound sorry in the least. "But there's this rather dubious professor that claims he owns err… Lucky. Can you come down, find out he's a charlatan and kick him out. Apparently, by law, we have to hear what he has to say if he has any proof."

Unbeknown to Chapman, this man could be his caretaker, but if Lindsey thought she smelled a rat, Anne was prone to believe her. After all, it takes one to know one.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Habituate: to make (someone or something) use to (someone or something) else.


	8. Impostors and Thieves

**Author's Notes:** Here is the next chapter for those for you who won't stop pestering me until I update, cough ArkansanDragon cough. Love all of your feedback!

I've also added the time of day for those that might get confused with when things happen. Let me know if you get confused about something, since I'm the author I have assumed knowledge, so it all makes sense to me.

* * *

**A Race to Protect**

**Chapter 8: Impostors and Thieves**

_Mid-afternoon _

As Anne walked through the automatic doors of the establishment, she mentally cringed. Standing with Dr Chapman was none other than 'Professor' Hans Rotwood. She knew the so-called professor through Stan, his eldest child use to have him as a teacher for some sort of Mythology class. The ASPCA officer told his colleges the man's theories when he thought they needed a good laugh. Remembering the ones she had heard, the young woman bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from giggling uncontrollably. It worked, barely.

_And I thought I had something to worry about_, Clarkson smirked. _This guy's probably seen Lucky before and wants credit for his "discovery of a magical creature". This'll be amusing_. She glanced at Lindsey to find out the vet did not share her amusement.

"Ah, Professor Rotwood, I presume?" The unorthodox professor appeared taken back by her knowledge of him, but recovered quickly.

Prideful of his name preceding him, the German puffed out his chest and shook Anne's hand. "Ya, dat is correct, doctor. I give my sincerest apologies if my dragon has caused any trouble. If you vould be so kind, I am happy to take him off your hands."

Anne raised both her hands in the traditional 'slow down' gesture. "Not so fast, sir. There's a process we have to follow before we can hand him over to you. If you could follow us, we'll go to Dr Chapman's office to discuss it. Care for coffee?" As Anne calmly allowed the man to walk in front of the two women, he couldn't see Lindsey's mouthed question: 'What the hell are you doing?'

Anne gave her college a smirk, gestured at the oblivious man with her eyes and tapped her head with her forefinger. Getting the message, the other woman grinned back. The pair may have disliked each other, but they were willing to gang up on someone who thought he could outwit them.

"So, Hans." Anne casually started while the three made themselves comfortable in Chapman's office, with Lindsey resting her elbows on the desk. "How did you come across such a magnificent creature? I guess a pet shop might get away with offering a baby as an exotic lizard."

Rotwood, to his credit, had assumed the doctors would boot him out if he started talking out magic. Thus he wasn't going to mention it. "_Nien_, doctor. I spotted him one night, naturally he sparked my scientific curiosity, and I offered a revard for proof of his existence to my class. After one of the _nien_ good hoodlums tried to svindle me with fake scales and claws, two other students came to me. Not with mere evidence, but vith the creature itself. I paid them handsomely for the beast. It was my hope that I vould be the one to discover a new species. Unfortunately, it escaped my specialised truck, causing me to become a laughingstock! The same retched hoodlum that tried to svindle me had somehow let it out and placed himself in the van. I got arrested for dat!" As he finished his tirade, Rotwood's accent had become more pronounced. It only added to the comical image that the women had to sit through with a straight face.

Her mind made up about the man, the dark-haired woman mulled over the many ways to make sure he would back out of his claim for Lucky. A possible charge for animal cruelty wouldn't go astray, either. _I'll have to find and thank that "hoodlum". I'd hate to think what would have happened if this nutcase had presented the poor thing as a magical creature. _

* * *

_Night_

Under the streets of the large modern city, three youths dressed similarly to ninjas and a blue, snake-like creature made their way towards a destination jotted on a map held by the only female in the group. "When this is done, I'm gonna feed Richard to the kraken myself. No, stuff that idea; I'll let Uncle take care of him. He can think of cruel and unusual punishments." Her three companions let her rant, at least her anger and frustration wasn't directed at them.

As they reached the half-hidden door that blended into the tunnel wall, the 'trainees' (few would acknowledge them as anything higher) took a deep breath of relief. As a result they quickly started to hack and cough due to the putrid stench of the area. Ignoring her comrades' plight, Thorn hushed them so they could enter with as little noise as possible. _This is too easy. Why do people make sewer entrances anyway? Well… if it was an escape route maybe, but there's more chance of someone wanting to break in than get out._ She filed that thought away for later as she slipped into the basement.

Despite her disproving glare, 88 and 89 flopped on the ground and kept gasping and gagging. The former Chinese dragon had to step over them to get inside. Making sure he had there attention, Loa shot a small stream of fire above their head. Even the Huntsclan outfits they had on couldn't detract from how pitiful the pair looked. "Will you two pull yourselves together," he huffed, "if anyone should be incapacitated by the smell, it should be me. My sense of smell is better then the three of you put together." Glad that the boys' fear of him prevented any argument and insured submission, he turned around and headed for the stairs.

Huntsgirl was trying not to look pleased by their scolding, but failed. She fell into step with the old dragon as they moved up the stairwell. "I'm glad that you did that. I'm sure they think I've got it in for them. Maybe now they'll realise that they _are_ really bad at this and it's not me making their lives miserable." The young woman kept her voice low so the objects of her remarks didn't hear.

Lao Shi might have commented, but the door to the first floor had been reached. Thorn took a small metal toothpick-like instrument out of the base of her braid and knelt so she could she the lock. To give her enough light to work with Loa made a ball of flame and held it near the door. With the ability to see more clearly, Thorn's stomach sank to the floor.

The group wouldn't need the lockpick. The sturdy lump of metal that was supposed to be attached to the handles of the door was lying on the ground, shattered and useless. There was now way that a building this protected would have a broken lock not dealt with once it was found. There was only one logical explanation: someone had beaten them to Jake.


	9. Call for Help

**Author's Notes:** Do not fear, I'm still alive! (ducks to avoid rotten fruit and chairs). Sorry for the very late update, but I've been recovering from having all 4 wisdom teeth removed. The painkillers made me drowsy and uncoordinated, I had to catch up on my studies afterwards (plus assignments and tests coming out of my ears and mental block, afterwards). Although, overall it was less painful then having my braces put in.

NOTE: I will NEVER abandon a story without _at least_ seeing if someone wants to continue it. If I leave it too long without updating, feel free to tell me to get my lazy ass into gear through FFNs Reviews or Private Messages (both automatically go to my e-mail, so I can't miss them).

* * *

_Previously on _A Race to Protect_:_

_The group wouldn't need the lockpick. The sturdy lump of metal that was supposed to be attached to the handles of the door was lying on the ground, shattered and useless. There was no way that a building this protected would have a broken lock not dealt with once it was found. There was only one logical explanation: someone had beaten them to Jake. _

* * *

**A Race to Protect **

**Chapter 9: Call for Help**

_Night, about 1am, the building Jake was put in to recover._

Being a leader by nature, her rise into the role within the peculiar crew was automatic when they were first thrust into this crisis. Even Loa was looking to her for guidance, it showed by his acceptance of her instructions throughout the ordeal. She couldn't afford to loose her cool, especially now. Thorn took a deep breath to calm herself as her brain worked feverishly for a course of action. Maybe one of the night guards had seen or heard something that would indicate where the thieves had taken Jake, or the crooks might have dropped something. The girl spun on her heels to face her comrades.

"We've been beaten to him," the first few words out of mouth were for the boys' benefit, again ignorant of what had transpired. "Follow me and keep your eyes open, we might find clues as to how they left or where they've gone." Without waiting for the news to sink in, Huntsgirl pulled the door open and stalked through. She was determined to find something, even if she had to threaten it out of the guards.

The trail to the burglars' destination was easy to follow. The lights had been left on and the few security guards they came across were out cold. They eventually arrived at a room where thick metal bars sealed off about half the space. The lock had been ripped off and the door was still ajar, its occupant long gone. Thorn entered the cage and shifted the mattress with her staff, just to check if the original intruders had left anything behind.

A glint of what looked like polished metal lying under a tipped chair caught her eye. The object was about the size of her hand; rotating her wrist around, Thorn discovered that it was a phone. Excited, she flipped it open, hoping to find a link to the kidnappers. There was one new message on it. As her eager eyes read the print, Huntsgirl realised that it didn't belong to the captors.

Her muttered curses drew the others' attention away from their own search. "They have Clarkson, too." The adolescent waved the device to show how she knew.

* * *

_An unknown location. _

Stars danced in Jake's vision as his skull hit the cage for the fifth time. Once he had regained consciousness, his first priority was to get out of the cramped space. Easier said then done.

The dragon couldn't open his mouth to bite or melt it, so he was reduced to ramming it. To be honest, Jake preferred the steel room with guards and tazzas to this _box_. The cage resembled those small meshed animal traps, only bigger and thicker wire. He had hoped the metal wouldn't hold up to his weight. To bad for him that it did.

With nothing to show for his efforts except a splitting headache, the teenager flopped down on his stomach and stared at the opposite wall in frustration. It seemed each time he woke up from being knocked out, he was in a worse situation then before. At least prior to now he could move. In this metal crate he couldn't sit up (let alone stand), turn around or spread his wings (the fact that he had a sprained wing was beside the point).

"Finally, I thought he was going to give himself a concussion before he quit. Seriously Anne, I think you've overstated the overgrown lizards' mental capacity." The mocking comment came from his second priority; Lindsey had a date with his fist.

The vet was currently watching him with amusement while casually eating dinner at a nearby table. Anne had her legs and arms duck-taped to the second chair and glaring daggers at her former co-worker. The adolescent was certain that given the chance, Clarkson would run that fork down the bitch's throat and dump the body overboard (he assumed they were on a ship due to the small rolls and pitches).

"Don't look at me like that, Anne. I'm actually doing him a favour. Do you think those paper-pushing feds are going to let him fly away once he gets better? No, they'd confiscate him and stick him in a cage for the rest of his life. Which won't be that long 'cause when they've finished all the tests they can think of, he'll be on a dissection table."

Jake shivered at the thought. _Somehow, I don't think those guys would give a hoot if I even opened my yap to' em._ He also realised that nobody could help him if the Feds did get him because the government could generally do whatever the hell it wanted to do out of the public eye. That was a _very_ sobering thought. Anne still looked defiant, but she was a little green from the images that were no doubt floating around in her mind.

"Where he's going, he might be made into a nice wall hanging or boots. But that's _after_ he dies of old age. It seems that one of those eccentric old goats in England spotted one of these things in Africa while he was on safari. He thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world and tried to get closer for a snap-shot. Stupid old geezer didn't think it'd mind the flash and got chased up a tree. All right for lions, rhinos and such, not so good for something that flies. It shot off with his camera, probably thinking it'd showed him who's boss."

Lindsey ended in a long chuckle, suggesting that the version she had received was more elaborate and funnier. Despite the circumstance, the young dragon found it amusing, and by the small snort that Anne made, so did she.

"One of his friends that he went with is in New York and gave him a buzz. He knew what was gonna happen to him, despite whatever you did. He organised the lot. As far as the cooke was concerned, no one was going to 'abuse such a magnificent animal merely to satisfy stuffed-shirts that haven't been outside their own backyard'. Once the sun's up, we're off."

Jake tried to pay attention to the rest of the woman's speech, but he was more concerned about an annoying fact about being a creature with scales. Pressing his side onto the mesh, he tried to rub the irritating spot on his flank. Usually, Hayley or his mother would help rub him down with a damp towel to remove loose scales. If this wasn't done every few days (even if he had stayed human during that time) he would start to itch, quite badly. The result of scratching the itches were partly loose scales coming off and leaving small bleeding areas that itched even more. Within the confined space, all he could do was rub against the wire and hope that he didn't start bleeding.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I got the scales itching idea from the episode _Young At Heart_, when Jake goes to his sister for help and she tells him "I'm not going to wax your scales again", or something like that. It also makes logical and practical sense when you think about it.


	10. Scales

**Author's Notes:** Okay, I am now officially enrolled in Bachelor of Business in university. There are no more books (or series of books) that compel me to read, making me useless and unresponsive to the world beyond my chair. For the next month at least, I can sit down and type this story!

_A few months later:_ Well… that plan didn't work out so well.

A note to ArkansanDragon: I'd already planned for a location spell, so don't think I filched your idea. Also, thank you for being my beta, giving me needed trivia and prodding my lazy ass to write.

**Disclaimer:** I've forgotten to do this, bugger. I don't own… please don't sue. If I did, it would still be running with the original animation and the guy that came up with the idea for _Homecoming_ (the ending at least) would be looking for a new job. I only own the characters I made up.

* * *

_Previously on _A Race to Protect

_The object was about the size of her hand; rotating her wrist around, Thorn discovered that it was a phone. Excited, she flipped it open, hoping to find a link to the kidnappers. There was one new message on it. As her eager eyes read the print, Huntsgirl realised that it didn't belong to the captors. _

_Her muttered curses drew the others' attention away from their own search. "They have Clarkson, too." The adolescent waved the device to show how she knew. _

* * *

**A Race to Protect **

**Chapter 10: Scales **

_Night, about 1am, Jake's 'recovery room'. _

With pieces of a plan forming and connecting in her mind, Huntsgirl faced Loa Shi. "Can Fu make a location spell for us? Quickly?" With the Huntsclan – officially, anyway – avoiding the use of potions, her knowledge of making such items were limited.

* * *

_Rooftop of _Canal Street Electronics

"Sorry, Sweetheart. We're missing one ingredient to whip up the quickest batch that doesn't need Krylock venom, and the second fastest potion takes days." The grey hound had just finished routing around his private stash when the four arrived back at the store.

"_Days!_" Thorn sputtered. "We don't have that amount of time. He could be taken out of the _country_ by then. Even with the police, there's no way we'd be able to get to him." The only good thing in the entire affair was that since the doctor was kidnapped too, it could become a matter for the local authorities. She had asked Spud and Trixie to place an anonymous call to 911 that Dr Clarkson had been taken from the building. Spud had also hacked into their radios and found out that the cops weren't too surprised by the abduction. After all, having 'a creature unknown to science' – for a pet or to sell to the highest bidder – would be like striking gold to the illegal animal trade. Being an undocumented animal, Clarkson would be seen by most as the expert on the new species.

Thorn flopped down on the concrete with her back to the ledge in frustration. Struck with an idea, she raised her head. "What are you missing?" _Maybe Uncle has it in the Lair. It can't be as rare as Krylock venom_. It wouldn't have been the first time stuff had disappeared from the Lair, only to reappear in the American Dragon's possession. Fortunately for her, either nobody noticed the missing items or they blamed the last person who had them for losing it.

"Ooh, no! You are _not_ gonna give 'em _anything_ from the Huntslair. Master will _kill_ us. He'll tie us up and throw us to the kraken for lunch! Na-ah, no way, no how!" The two trainees had said so little over the night that it was easy to forget they were there. Eighty-nine glared defiantly at Huntsgirl, daring her to dispute the obvious.

As much as Thorn disliked them questioning her authority, she had to admit that the younger teen had a point. No matter what the circumstances were, handing Huntsclan property over to dragons was forbidden. _Now that I think about it, most of what we're doing is forbidden, and possibly treasonable_. It was only a miracle that the two boys hadn't realised that. If they didn't cooperate with her now, she might as well stick them in the cell with Richard. She had to make this mission sound as though it had no consequences for them.

Huntsgirl stood up and looked as stern and formidable as her physical stature allowed. "Listen up, you two. Uncle put _me_ in charge. So I am responsible for any decisions made. Since I outrank both of you, you cannot be held accountable for any orders I give. If anyone is going to be punished for this endeavour, it's going to be me." Thorn mentally cringed at the thought. _Oh, well. If they're smart, the High Council will realise this rescue attempt is in the Huntsclan's best interest. Can't have dragons telling the public about our livelihood, can we?_ The boys looked at each other and shrugged. Number 88 gave a mock salute in her direction as if to say 'Okay, Boss'.

Fu shook his head. "Nice speech there, Toots. But unless you got a chuck of the kids' tail or somethin', we're sunk."

Thorn blinked. "You mean like skin, blood and hair, right? Why not just pinch some hair out of his hairbrush." After all, it was the obvious thing to do.

Loa snorted in contempt. "If you have noticed the abomination he calls 'style', I do not believe his head has knowledge of what a hairbrush is used for."

Huntsgirl closed her eyes in aggravation and absentmindedly scratched her neck. Unfortunately, the spot remained itchy due to her necklace that she had almost finished mak—

If she were an anime character, her sweat-drop and fall would have illustrated her 'duh!' moment. "What about scales?" Thorn stammered, once she had gotten over her shocked stupor of realising her incompetence.

With a surprised nod from the animal guardian, Huntsgirl pridefully dangled the red and gold scaled ornamentation between her fingers for the others to see. The entire piece was made from tightly overlapping scales, thus one could mistake it for actual dragon skin. Most of the 'band' of the necklace that circled her throat was made from the smallest gold scales — mainly so the shape would conform to her neck movements – and was 1⅔ inches thick. The colour of the scales changed to red at the centre of the 'band'. The bulk of the necklace, roughly three inches across the 'band' and four inches downwards, had the smallest red scales on top and the largest ones forming a 'V' at where Huntsgirls' bust started.

"When I die, I want ta be a necklace." It took a few moments for Thorn to figure out what Fu meant. When she did, he was rewarded with swipe to the head.

"Keep talking like that and you might get your wish, Mutt."

"But—but. Only _girls_ make scale jewellery." The tall teen wiped his glasses and squinted at the design. Seeing the raised eyebrow he received, Number 89 tried to amend his blurted statement. "I mean – you know – the squawking banshee type that cry over broken nails or blood stains on their shirts."

"For your information, I happen to know grown _men_, with skulls to their name, wearing scale bracelets under their uniforms." The young woman retorted. It was true, of course. For those who were chasing their first dragon – or ones that were taking a while to slay – it was common for apprentices (even the initiated) to collect scale that had been knocked off their victim. Huntsgirl had seen many of her associates use however many scales they had collected as earrings, bracelets and necklaces.

Fu plucked the necklace from her and started down the rooftop stairs. "Ah-goo-goo, we're in business. I'll whip it up in less than ten minutes, and bada-bing-bada-boom, we've got where they've stashed the kid." He turned to Thorn, "You want ta sell this, I know some guys that'll pay a good amount of gold for –yah!" The rest of his sentence was cut short by a green beam aimed just above his head.

* * *

_On a ship at the Hudson River docks. 1:30am. _

Anne wrung the water out of the cloth and started collecting the fallen scales. She had noticed Lucky bleeding and after discounting the wounds re-opening, deduced that it was his 'skin' that was giving him discomfort. On the basis of the creature's health, the doctor had conned their captors into allowing him out of the cage for a rubdown. They were not stupid though, they had tied his muzzle to one of the rings bolted onto the floor. The chain leash was too short to raise himself more then a foot off the floor so he had restricted mobility. Plus a guard was set at the door, a tranquiliser for the dragon and a gun for Anne.

The woman sat on the cold flooring and examined the shiny red scales. _They're probably made of keratin. If that's true, collecting discarded scales would be an easy and safe way to check the animal's condition_. She placed a handful in one of the many lab coat pockets for later analysis, if there was a later. Anne went back to the task. A sigh of contentment escaped the beast's muzzled snout, his dark brown eyes drooping as he stretched as much as the constraints allowed.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Krylock venom was used in Season 2 Episode 2: _Half-Baked_. I acknowledge I got this information from _TV .com_.

Keratin: makes up hair, nails, hooves and horns.


	11. For A Common Cause

**Author's Notes: **Thank you all for your reviews and encouragement. You know how to make a girl feel appreciated. Forgive me, I just noticed that my documents are in the Australian spelling. I don't think it matters too much, though.

Thanks to FantomoDrako for informing me of the web address not showing up at the bottom of the chapter. I've edited it. I'm forming a habit of listing all of my source (damn uni mind). And thanks to ArkansanDragon for being my beta.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own… please don't sue. If I did, it would still be running with the original animation and the guy that came up with the idea for _Homecoming_ (the ending at least) would be looking for a new job. I only own the characters I made up.

* * *

_Previously on _A Race to Protect

_Fu plucked the necklace from her and started down the rooftop stairs. "Ah-goo-goo, we're in business. I'll whip it up in less than ten minutes, and bada-bing-bada-boom, we've got where they've stashed the kid." He turned to Thorn, "You want ta sell this, I know some guys that'll pay a good amount of gold for –yah!" The rest of his sentence was cut short by a green beam aimed just above his head. _

* * *

**A Race to Protect  
**

**Chapter 11: For A Common Cause **

_Hudson River docks. 2:30am._

Lao stopped on a rooftop to rest his muscles. Sun, Hayley and himself had been scouting the area for any suspicious behaviour that might lead them straight to the ship Jake was on. The old man had misgivings about bringing his granddaughter along, but once she knew where her elder brother was, she insisted on helping. Whether the dragon masters allowed her to or not. She had also argued that three dragons could cover more ground then two dragons and three humans. Lao had relented, on the condition that Hayley would leave if things got out of hand.

Spud was on standby to tip off the police if they were unable to do the rescue themselves. With the dragons no closer to narrowing down possible places (he could be in one of the several hundred storage containers on the dock, for all they knew) and Rose's own queries coming up empty, that call seemed to be their only remaining option.

"Hay, Old Blue. Damn you lot are hard to track down. No wonder no one with any cred has eva seen ya" The gruff voice snapped the ageing dragon out of his musings. The owner of the statement had his head over the fire escape, in the process of catching his breath. The middle-age man finally hoisted himself onto the roof and flopped down, paying no heed to the over seven-foot tall lizard that was mere yards away. The police officer – for Lao could now take note of the uniform – tiredly took his walkie-talkie out of his belt and turned it on.

"Officer Johnson reporting. Sighting of 'Old Blue' at Hudson Docks confirmed. I repeat: sighting confirmed. Request permission to pass out from exhaustion. Over." The last bit came out with wiry humour of a job well done. Or at least with a desired outcome.

"_Request deigned, Johnson. Orders are to maintain visual until ground units get into place. That means following him if he moves. Over._" The contact sounded feminine, and just as tired, but trying to sound up-beat.

Johnson swore. "No offence, Serge. But woun't be easier ta have a chopper on 'em. Lucky for me he don't look like he's gonna fly off. Looks as buggered as I feel. By the way, that Animal Control guy was right; if ya ignore 'em, they ain't bothered by ya. Over."

"_I'll pass the note along. We can't use the air team because the helicopters might scare the dra… er, creatures into hiding. _That_, and we don't want the suspects to know we might have found their safe house before we've secured the area. Over._"

The male office huffed. "Serge. If somethin' looks like a duck, waddles like a duck and quakes like a duck, then ya gonna call it a duck. If ya heard 'bout anythin' else that's real big, got scales and wings, I'd like ta hear it. Trust me, no one's gonna laugh at ya if ya call it a dragon. Another thing, how da we know that the goons are even here. I mean, all we know is that Old Blue's been loiterin' 'round the place. Over."

"_We don't. This is a theory the ASPCA officer came up with. Clarkson noticed the blue one stayed across the street from where the red one was kept. It didn't even leave to eat. If it knew where the other one was, it'll probably hang around the place. Besides, they probably stole it to sell it on the black market. The best places for sales like that definitely _don't_ include the United Sates. The quickest way out is by air or sea, so the docks are good place to block. Him being there just confirms the Chiefs suspicions. Stay there and rest. I'll tell you when you can move. Over and out._"

Johnson shoved the device back in his belt. He looked wearily at Lao. "Don't ya go flyin' off, ya hear. I might just –". Whatever he was going to threaten was lost to a large yawn.

The former Chinese Dragon had no choice when his body decided to respond in kind. Being reminded of his current activities – none of which included sleep – made his ears, eyes and head droop. He rearranged himself in a comfortable position with the intention of resting without going to sleep. Now that he knew that the police would block off the harbour, Lao's main worry was taken care of. He could rest a little.

* * *

_Hudson River docks, near the ships 2:30am_

Hayley sneezed. After a sniff to stop the nasal fluid from irritating her sinuses further, the young dragon put her eye to the next porthole. Since there were several in the rescue effort, it had been decided that her grandfather would check out the buildings that lined the docks and the Clansmembers would check the containers on it, posing question to whoever still worked at this hour. That left Hayley and Sun to check the ships themselves.

The prepubescent had a difficult time figuring out _why_ the Huntsclan would help look for her brother. Didn't they want dragons to become extinct? After much thought – there was a lot of time to think with the mind numbing work – Hayley came to the conclusion that although the Huntsclan wanted them dead, _they_ wanted to be the ones to kill them. 'To take pride in ones work', or some nonsense like that.

She didn't like working with them, but Lao seemed to trust them for now. And she trusted her grandpa's judgment. Sun had said not to worry about the boys; they were too stupid or fearful to do any real damage. Hayley had seen that for herself several times.

The one to watch for an ulterior motive or trap was the girl. According to Sun, she had something her master didn't: cunning. Whereas her master relied on intimidation and brute force, Huntsgirl could spot mental weaknesses and character flaws, using them to her advantage. And she could do it without the uncontrollable hatred for dragons that led many of her kin to underestimate their opponents. Or overreach their own skill level for a blow that may not land. In short, she could be very, very dangerous.

Hayley was so focused on her dark thoughts that she almost missed a sign that her brother was nearby. A porthole had light coming out of it. Very weak light, but light just the same. Light meant people. And people meant Jake.

She rubbed the condensed salt off the glass and pressed her face against it. The three men in the room were too interested in their card game to notice prying eyes. They wore black and had masks on the back of their chairs. The most telling clue was the guns that were on the table and lining the wall.

Hayley grinned. She beat her wing harder to gain altitude, turning in the direction her grandfather should be.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **In the Series 2, Jake is said to be 14, Hayley 9. He's 16 in this fic, so she's 11.

As far as what Hayley looks like, I'm going with her Series 2 from. The pink suits her too-cute thing she's got going.

Regarding why Sun & Hayley don't know about Rose, it will be explained later.


	12. Standoff

**Author's Notes: **Thank you all for your reviews and encouragements. I have been requested to do more of Jake and a fight scene. 'So you have wished it, so shall it be' (sorry, been reading too many _Danny Phantom_ fics). It will be done in the next few chapters.

Thanks to ArkansanDragon for being my beta and offering ideas.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own… please don't sue. If I did, it would still be running with the original animation and the guy that came up with the idea for _Homecoming_ (the ending at least) would be looking for a new job. I only own the characters I made up.

* * *

_Previously on _A Race to Protect

_She rubbed the condensed salt off the glass and pressed her face against it. The three men in the room were too interested in their card game to notice prying eyes. They wore black and had masks on the back of their chairs. The most telling clue was the guns that were on the table and lining the wall. _

_Hayley grinned. She beat her wing harder to gain altitude, turning in the direction her grandfather should be. _

* * *

**A Race to Protect  
**

**Chapter 12: Standoff **

_On a police boat in Hudson Harbour, 3:10am._

Sergeant Baker couldn't help herself from glancing at the pink animal perched on the bow of the vessel. Although Johnson had been right about no one laughing at her, she still wasn't comfortable calling it a dragon. Dragons were in books and movies, fairytales to entertain children. They WEREN'T supposed to be sitting on a boat eating an officers lunch…err, early breakfast, in New York City no less!

What was almost as odd was that the Lieutenant seemed completely at ease with it being there. He was the one that made room on the deck when he saw it close in, and handed over the roll when its stomach growled. Since their commanding officer treated the new arrival as nothing to be concerned about, the rest of the team acted the same…mostly. After a hesitant query, it was learnt that he had know about their existence for years. When asked why he didn't tell anyone about them his answer should have been obvious. "Would anyone in their right mind believe me? Besides, I'm a cop, not Animal Control. They weren't bothering anybody so why make a fuss?"

After a few minutes, word came back that everyone was in position. Baker got out of the way of the dive team as they hopped out of the boat and dropped into the ink-coloured water. Since the perps were armed and had at least one hostage, the plan was to sneak onto the ship and take the sentries down before they knew what was going on.

Too bad plans that required good timing, stealth and luck normally went down the proverbial drain.

A bang, a pained cry and a splash were the first signs that they were in trouble. Baker hit the deck when the gunman started emptying rounds from his semi-automatic into the much smaller water-bound craft. She could hear the motor's hum as the driver gunned it to get out of range of the hail of bullets. Another splash reached her ears and against her better judgement, raised her head to see who had fallen overboard.

The policewoman had to blink a couple of times to assure herself her eyes weren't deceiving her. The dragon was paddling towards the large ship…_No, not the ship_. Baker realised as she strained her eyes in the dark. _It's heading for the divers_. With the man on the ship focused to the police boat, the divers had a chance to help their injured comrade. _But once we're out of range they'll be sitting ducks_. The woman watched the pink beast reach and grab the floundering cop, letting him cling to its scaly back. With the extra weight gone, the others swam as fast as they could after their fleeing transportation.

Fortunately, when they reached the relative safety of the blockade the sentry either didn't feel like firing on the divers or was too pleased with himself to notice them. Once the injured man was on board and waiting for another boat to take him to receive medical treatment, the team crowded around the animal – any uneasiness forgotten – and showered it with praise, affection and a thorough rubdown. For its part, the dragon looked content to soak up the attention while it panted from exhaustion.

* * *

_On the ship, 3:15am _

It had been agreed that they would let the police handle the rescue if they could. With the media attention this was getting – and going to get in the near future – Lao, Huntsgirl and Sun decided the less they had to interfere, the fewer tracks they had to cover up. So when the cops' plan backfired (knowing a standoff could take hours – even days) the teenager took the initiative and snuck aboard while the thugs on deck were occupied by the police.

Her Huntsclan training served her in good stead as she posted Sun on deck with instructions to take out anyone that tried to go below. With her back guarded, Thorn led Lao, #88 and #89 to the nearest air-vent. The dragon was too big to fit, so his main job was to clear the hallways and rooms between them and Jake after the adolescents scoped the place out. _Thank you for the wireless headsets, Uncle_. The kit had been her 16th birthday present. With her training going so well, it wouldn't be long before she was put in charge of her own unit (the boys didn't count) and Steven wanted her to be well trained in the equipment she would be using. _And to think I wanted a car_.

Due to the fact that the ageing dragon had the advantage of surprise, he quickly and quietly rendered all he crossed unconscious and took the ammunition out of their weapons. If they woke up before the police breached their stronghold, at least they were helpless against the dragons or Thorn.

Thorn climbed out of the vent at a T-junction and spoke quietly to Lao. "He's in a cage down that hallway", indicating to the right, "but there's a guard at the door that will see you before you can reach him. You might be able to take him if someone makes a distraction in the room. I think I'll have to get Clarkson in on it for it to work. I'll leave the boys in the vent so they can tell you when to move in."

Huntsgirl jumped back up into the vent, told the boys what to do – even though they should have heard over the wireless – and crawled over to the vent in the roof of the desired room. In a bid not to scare the doctor, the young woman tapped on the vent.

* * *

By the fact that no one had come in, Jake had come to the conclusion that the cops had failed to storm the ship. The young dragon briefly wondered what the Dragon Council's reaction to all this was. Would they take his powers away? They had done it once before, if only temporarily. After all, he was still under 21 – for some odd reason they physically couldn't take a dragons' transformation power if they were older than that. Hence the reason for Chang still having hers after the thing with the Dark Dragon.

He shook his head. There was no use making himself depressed. The scenario required him surviving… _There I go again. I'll end up like my mom's second-cousin-once-removed, the one with alfoil on her head to jam alien transmission. I need ta…_

TAP, TAP, TAP.

His ears perked at the unfamiliar sound. Looking at Clarkson – who was still trying to see out of the salt-encrusted porthole – didn't seem to acknowledge the strange noise. Maybe he had imag…

TAP, TAP, TAP.

Jake scanned the room. Being a creature that could travel in three dimensions, he was quicker than most humans to look in the one direction that most large land-based animals would not consider – up.

Using his dragon-sight, he could see beautiful cerulean eyes framed by a charcoal coloured mask and a long golden braid staring back at him.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I'm sorry. I just _had_ to make up an excuse for Chang still having her powers after being in prison while the Council took Jake's away due to a prank. I'm anal like that with plot holes you could drive a tank through.


	13. Truce

**Author's Notes: **I'm glad people liked my answer to the annoying 'why-didn't-they-take-Chang's-powers-away' question the canon left fans with. The oversight irked me, glad I'm not the only one.

Thanks to ArkansanDragon for being my beta.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own… please don't sue. If I did, it would still be running with the original animation and the guy that came up with the idea for _Homecoming_ (the ending at least) would be looking for a new job. I only own the characters I made up.

* * *

_Previously on _A Race to Protect

_TAP, TAP, TAP. _

_Jake scanned the room. Being a creature that could travel in three dimensions, he was quicker than most humans to look in the one direction that most large land-based animals would not consider – up. _

_Using his dragon-sight, he could see beautiful cerulean eyes framed by a charcoal coloured mask and a long golden braid staring back at him._

* * *

**A Race to Protect **

**Chapter 13: Truce **

_On the ship, 3:20am. _

Jake was convinced the sight of Rose above him was the most beautiful thing he would ever see. Once she knew she had his attention, she pointed at Clarkson and then indicated herself. Realising what the young woman wanted, Jake hit his head against the mesh of his prison. The unexpected noise called the doctor over to his cage.

"There, there, boy. The police are on their way and they'll rescue us. You'll be back at the clinic recovering in no time," she cooed. The American Dragon wondered if that was supposed to calm him, or Clarkson. He nudged her hand through the bars in an effort to reassure her that he was alright. The fact that he remained calm seemed to soothe the woman's nerves. Remembering why he had gained her attention in the first place, Jake pricked his ears up and stared at the grate in the ceiling.

"Ooh," was her first reaction as she followed his gaze. Quickly glancing at the door as if she expected the gunman to barge in, Clarkson retrieved the chair she had been bound to earlier and quietly placed it under the vent opening. Rose took out the screen, handed it to the older woman, and gracefully leaped out onto the chair. "I was expecting someone in blue or camouflage, but beggars can't be chooses. Unfortunately for your plan, he _(motioning to Jake)_ can't fit through that _(gesturing to the vent)_, and I'm not leaving without him."

Although Jake couldn't see Rose's face, he could tell she was smiling. "We're leaving by the front door, doctor. I've got… _help_ outside that'll take out the guard, but I need you to distract him."

Ann nodded. Rose moved to the side so the guard couldn't see her while the doctor walked over to the reinforced door and thumped her palm against it. "Hay! I've been thinking. Chapman made some good points about the big red brute, so… what could I expect to get if I applied my expertise?"

The guard – probably thinking he'd get an extra share for turning the doctor – faced her, put on a charming smile and set down his weapon. "I kept tellin' the guys you were smart, but they didn't bel –" THUD. Straining to find out what happened, Jake heard a set of heavy footsteps accompanied by clicking sounds in the corridor that must belong to a large creature with clawed feet.

Using a hairpin from her braid, his girlfriend quickly undid the padlock on his cage and got to work on the steel door. After a few tries, she called for the downed man's keys. Two new sets of footsteps approached the door followed by familiar whispers.

"Aaahhrrg. They're smarter than I thought. Can you pass my staff through? " A Huntsclan staff was fed through the door's bars. As she turned, Rose noticed the searching look the doctor was giving her. "The guard doesn't have the keys. I'll have to blow the lock." She said in explanation. Rose backed up, took careful aim, and fired. The eerie green light hit the metal, separating the bolt from the doorframe.

Faced with imminent freedom, Jake got out of his cramped cell - ripping off the muzzle in the process – inhaled and stretched…Bad idea. His yawn quickly turned into a hiss of pain as his wing and leg protested being moved. The sharp throbbing sent him back to the floor. Both women were at his side in an instant. Trying to raise himself again, the American Dragon realised that his sprained wing wouldn't cope with the constant jarring that would come from walking with a limp. He had to find some way to move without assistance so the others could defend themselves if needed.

Crouched on the ground, Jake noticed that being on all-fours as a dragon was more comfortable than if he were human. He tentatively took a few steps forward using his hands and one foot, instinctively using his tail as a counterbalance for the leg he couldn't use. His wing still moved, but not as much. He was so focused on his movements that he missed half of Ann's sentence.

"…can walk with both injuries."

"No," his girlfriend countered. "Let him practice a bit. We might need to make a run for it later." After a few minutes sorting out how he could move with the least amount of pain Jake headed for the door, signalling he was ready to leave.

At the sight of his grandfather Anne blinked, looked him in the eye, bit her lip in thought, and made obvious effort to sound like she was only speaking to Rose. "I don't know how you managed to persuade him to come here, but due to current circumstances explanations would just be a nuisance. And it's probably better if I wasn't bombarded with detail, anyway."

Jake knew he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to subtlety, but he got the message: _I know something's fishy, but I don't want to know and I'm not going to ask. _His girlfriend nodded in understanding and answered with a casual remark.

"True. You may want to think about how you escaped. Our presence may bring unnecessary attention." _Make up a believable story for the cops._ After the exchange, Rose headed out the door.

The trip through the bowels of the ship was uneventful. The two boys were in the lead, crawling within the air duct to call a warning if they saw anything through the grates they passed. Rose was following the path on the ground with Clarkson, Jack and Loa, respectively. When the group got to the entrance to the deck, Sun greeted Jake with a slight nod in his direction while Ann failed at looking like she didn't want to ask '_How many of them are living here?_' Curbing her curiosity might be harder than she had thought.

Now all they had to do was to sneak past the goons on lookout, the police camped on the dock, and the media surrounding the perimeter. No problem.


	14. Run for it

**Author's Notes: **I'm glad people like Ann. It's a gamble to make up a main character; they may rub the audience the wrong way and stop reading! It's happened when I was reading on FFnet, except they buggered a likable character from the cannon (which is even worse)!

Thanks to ArkansanDragon for being my beta.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own… please don't sue. If I did, it would still be running with the original animation and the guy that came up with the idea for _Homecoming_ (the ending at least) would be looking for a new job. I only own the characters I made up.

**PS:** Please forgive me for the possible random changes of how people's names are spelt. There's multiple ways of spelling them & my spell-check approves them all. The main one is Loa/Lao. I keep forgetting which one I've chosen.

* * *

_Previously on _A Race to Protect

_When the group got to the entrance to the deck, Sun greeted Jake with a slight nod in his direction while Ann failed at looking like she didn't want to ask _'How many of them are living here?'_ Curbing her curiosity might be harder than she had thought. _

_Now all they had to do was to sneak past the goons on lookout, the police camped on the dock, and the media surrounding the perimeter. No problem._

* * *

**A Race to Protect **

**Chapter 14: Run for it. **

_On the ship, 3:45am. _

It was an unspoken agreement between them all to keep Clarkson in the dark for as long as possible. It wasn't as thought they didn't trust her, far from it. It was for her own safety, as well as theirs. The less she knew (or suspected), the less she could unwittingly tell anybody else. It was the whole basis why nobody except Jake, his grandfather, Fu and a few members of the Dragon Council knew about Rose. If the magical community knew about her, it might filter back to the Huntsclan. Besides, Jake found their mock aggression towards each other entertaining and sexy; there was something to be said for a confident and dangerous young woman.

The group started moving quietly towards the side of the ship with Jake staying in the middle – being the least likely to be able to fight or run away. Fortunately for them, the kidnappers were clustered on the side with the police blockade – hurling threats, insults and the occasional item found on hand. Unfortunately, they were smart enough to have patrols.

"What da hell??!!" was the response from the man who appeared around a corner and almost walked into Loa's chest. He backpedaled before the old dragon could recover for his own surprise to clobber the thug on the head. He released a few rounds over the dragon's head at an attempt to scare him off before he was picked up and tossed into the Hudson River. Using their acute hearing (which they should have already been using), all three dragons knew some of his fellows were coming to see what the commotion was. The group hightailed it in the opposite direction and hid themselves amongst the large crates, masses of rigging and huge metal pipes on the open deck.

The men eased around the corner, cocking their rifles and slowly started to sweep the area. Knowing it was only a matter of time before they were found, Huntsgirl stunned one with her staff. She had timed it so her target was out of his college's line of sight, so when they came at the sound of his body hitting the deck, she had found a new hiding place.

The teenager was quick and nimble on her feet. She managed to down another of them in a similar fashion before one man called the remaining back, swapped his rifle for a sub-machine gun and demanded in a loud and confident voice: "Whoever you are, you have till the count of three to get out of wherever you're hiding before I make you look like Swiss cheese! 1!... 2!... Yyyooowww!!!"

He dropped the weapon, clutching his arm in pain from the glowing energy-arrow that was lodged there. Using their surprise of being attacked to buy some time, Thorn blasted two more of the men before charging into their midst.

Clustering together may provide security in numbers and many eyes, but it makes heavy firearms all but useless. It was no contest, really. Huntsgirl was trained to take on opponents many times larger than herself in unarmed combat; and – unlike these dolts – she could use a staff in very tight quarters. She used her staff as pole-vault to aim a powerful kick at a unusually large grunt – breaking his jaw and knocking him out when the back of his head hit the floor. Keeping her momentum going, Thorn swung her weapon in a low arc and sent two more on their buts before stunning one and pounding the other on the head.

One man did manage to back up without falling over his comrades to get clear shot. But once he saw who attacked them, he just stared with a bewildered look on his face. Apparently, this guy could not believe that a petite young girl could send several 200lbs brutes to the floor. He didn't have much time to contemplate the matter because he was batted over the side – courtesy of Sun's tail.

With the goons knocked out and bound with the ship's spare rope, the gang continued to move towards the exit ramp.

Clarkson breathed a sigh of relief when the ramp to the pier came into view. That was short lived when shouting was heard from the direction of the hull. "The lizard's gone, Boss! And so's it's keeper!" The response was instantaneous… Every last thug rushed to the ramp, blocking the only exit that didn't involve a two-story drop and a swim.

They quickly fanned out along the rail facing the waif. One guy questioned a man in such a timid voice that Ann couldn't make it out. She did, however, hear the response; "Idiot! Of course they're still here! The cops would be on us by now if they weren't! You three," he gestured to several men closest to him, "get down there and find them. The beast's hurt, it can't go too far. And when you find the Doc, KNOCK HER OUT!! She's too much trouble, if you ask me." The three ran passed their hiding place to reach enter the ship's hold.

The light blue dragon patted Ann on the back, as if to comfort her. It was only then that Clarkson realized she was shaking. Hearing chatting noises, she looked over to the boys in the ninja get-up…and felt better. They were cowering behind Lucky's flank, much to his annoyance. Unable to hold off her curiosity, she tapped the young woman on the shoulder. "New to the job?" She whispered, nodding to the pair.

The female rolled her eyes. "If you regard two years of training in the field _new_. Don't ask me what Uncle was smoking when he hired them. They're more a hindrance than help." She took a breath. "Here's the plan: You take Dumb, Dumber and Dragonboy over to those crates. We'll make a diversion over there," gesturing in the opposite direction, "so you three can help him get to the ramp without being seen. No matter what you see or hear, don't stop. Understood?"

Most people would be irritated taking orders from someone that looked like they were still on their learner's permit, but Ann was smart enough to see that she knew what she was doing. Besides, pride wasn't worth squat if you were dead.

She jabbed the boys to get them moving from the safety of the shadows, but it was the shove Lucky gave them from behind that got them out of their cover. "Master's going to kill us when he finds out what happened," the skinny Caucasian boy with glasses whined. _Master? Could this be the girl's uncle?_ Ann wondered.

"Don't worry," the chubby African-American countered. "Remember what Thorn said. She's gonna take the fall for this rescue, and it was the snobby Pom that shot him – we're in the clear, bro." _Strange. Why would they get in trouble for rescuing someone? Especially when it sounds like they're partly responsible for it._

"I'd rather be chasing dragons than this," the first boy continued. _Huh…?_

"You nuts, bro? You're all like 'Aahhh! Dragon!' and he's all like 'Yo, Dude, you're not worth the effort to get up for, but I will 'cause yer screaming pisses me off.'" Lucky had to butt him with his head at this point to keep both of them moving. "Yeah, yeah. I'm walkin'."

"That's what I mean. Their so worried about evading Master and Thorn that we're not on their 'Beware Of' list. We're not worth making a fuss over, so we're safer than those two." _Evading… Beware of… Do these guys _hunt_ dragons?_ The animal lover within her wanted to stop and give them a piece of her mind, but her survival instincts told her that was a bad idea at the moment.

Intellectually, Ann knew that the Illegal Animal Trade was the third largest illicit trade in the world – after weapons and drugs, in that order. Dragons – in one form or another – were admired and feared for their strength or wisdom in almost every major culture around the world. And that was forgetting about any so called 'magical' properties. The price for a head, claw, tail or hide of one would be mind blowing. Suddenly, getting Lucky out of reach became much more urgent.

The only thing that didn't fit with the hunter scenario was why the dragons went along with this 'Thorn' if she hunted them. Ann shook her head. _Too much thinking will get me killed here._

Finally reaching their destination, Clarkson positioned herself so she could see the ramp and the distraction point.

Clarkson expected to see the green bolts she had seen before, but she saw something else as well…fire. Two streams of it launched out of place where the three were, aiming for those nearest. Heart in her mouth, the doctor grabbed Lucky's arm to steady him and made a bee-line for the ramp. She didn't notice the screams, gunfire, or the fact that the boys were already gone… she didn't even see the shrapnel that slammed into her head.

Her head exploding with pain, Ann flailed for the railing. Moving too fast, her momentum carried her over, headfirst into the dark water. With her last moment of awareness, she could have sworn Lucky called her name…


	15. 15 The Doctor Needs a Doctor

**Author's Notes: **Thanks to ArkansanDragon for being my beta.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own… please don't sue. If I did, it would still be running with the original animation and the guy that came up with the idea for _Homecoming_ (the ending at least) would be looking for a new job. I only own the characters I made up.

* * *

_Previously on _A Race to Protect

_Her head exploding with pain, Ann flailed for the railing. Moving too fast, her momentum carried her over, headfirst into the dark water. With her last moment of awareness, she could have sworn Lucky called her name…_

_

* * *

_

**A Race to Protect **

**Chapter 15: The Doctor Needs a Doctor. **

Jake didn't take even a second to think before he jumped after her. _Okay, maybe I shoulda' thought this through_, he pondered while his injuries sent bursts of pain to his cranium when he hit the water. When his head broke the surface, his eyes burned, his leg was on fire and he didn't know which way it was to shore. Jake pushed all of it aside and concentrated on one thing – finding Clarkson.

Her white lab coat was easy to spot; it was the only bright patch in the darkness. Unceremoniously hauling the woman onto his back, the young dragon began dog paddling toward the flashing red and blue lights that he hoped were police vehicles on the dock.

Pausing every so often to catch his breath, check that the doctor's face was out of the water and repositioning Ann to prevent her from sliding off, Jake was so focused that he literally swam into a support column of the pier. Wrapping his three good legs and tail around the concrete, he sighed with relief that he didn't have to tread water any more. Looking around, he cursed as he discovered an obstacle preventing them from escaping the frigid bay: there was no ladder in sight.

Grunting and panting, Jake rested his head on the column while thinking of a plan. He could try to call for help, but with the sound of the waves, periodic gunfire and other background noise he doubted anyone would hear him. If only he had a flare gun! The next thought made him smack his forehead against the pillar: he _had_ a _natural_ flare gun! Taking a deep breath, Jake swam out a few feet so he was no longer hidden under the pier and shot a 10ft high stream of fire straight up. All he could do now was tread water and hope that help would come before he was too exhausted to keep both their heads above the waves… or he and his passenger got hypothermia.

* * *

Officer Halt was in charge of keeping all non-essential persons off the boardwalk. Normally this wouldn't be a problem after the first gunshot. Most people with an ounce of common sense and self-preservation would head in the other direction when faced with a dangerous situation. But _nooo…_ The media had realized the police were following the dragons (that's what they looked like, so that's what he's gonna call them, God damit!), so the soul-suckers wanted in on the action.

So, armed with police tape and his squad car as barriers, he continued to remind the urban vampires – whose sole job was to annoy authorities and brainwash the public – to stay out of the area for their own safety.

Not that it stopped them from attacking him with questions he couldn't possibly answer.

"How many of them are there?" _How the hell would I know? It's not like we had a census done_.

"Is there a need for the pubic to be concerned?" _Lady, if there was, we would 'ave know 'bout them ages ago._

"Are they a threat to local residents?" _Same as above_.

"How is the government going to cover up their experiments in genetics now?" _WTF…!_ He wasn't the only one who raised an eyebrow at that question.

To stop them breathing (and involuntary spitting) in his face, Halt turned to the pier… and was rewarded with being just in time to see a column of fire coming from the edge. Wasting no time, the officer of the law sprinted toward the phenomenon and shone his torch in the general direction the flame had come from. The light made the creatures eyes glow green as Halt blinked to confirm what his own eyes told him.

"The first person that can get a ladder or crane brought here gets the first interview!" he bellowed. Within a millisecond, three quarters of the press bolted in various directions to obey the order. It was far faster than nearly all public servants could be motivated to manage. Those that were left knelt over the edge while jostling each other to get be best shot.

"Hold on… helps on its way." The man in blue muttered. He could only hope the woman it was carrying was still alive.

* * *

_Lutheran Medical Center, 9:30am _

The bright light that assaulted her eyes made Ann close them again. Her head hurt, her legs were rubber and why did she feel like she'd been thrown into the washing machine? Waiting until her eyes got used to the light, Clarkson looked around without moving her head. Her vision confirmed what her nose had told her: she was in a hospital. Images of last night – was it last night? – flashed through her head. _Lucky! Was he okay? The three ninjas and Ryu… what happened to them?_

The doctor forced herself to lie still, calming her racing heart. She needed answers… and some morphine. The young woman slowly reached for the call button on the table. _I could use a drink too. I can still taste the salt._

The nurse checked her pupils and the bandages around her head before she would answer anything. The nurse herself knew little of the fuss that had transpired so she gave the slightly distressed woman the day's _New York Times_ and her recovered cell phone (apparently it was dropped off by a young blonde woman claiming to be a work colleague, even though she looked like she could have been in high school).

Taking the water and painkillers, Ann settled in with the newspaper. The front page had a large color picture of the red dragon sprawled on the pier while medics bandaged her wound on scene. The heading screamed _"'Dragon' saves doctor from kidnappers"_. _At least they had the decency to add the quotation marks._ Ann internally muttered. Reading the article, she found that there was no mention of the ninjas. The police assumed Lucky had melted the lock in order to escape. _Okay. Let's go with that._ A few of the medics had seen the dragon limp off with the help of two others. Chasing an injured overgrown komodo around was one thing, but they didn't want to piss the other two off. A search later in the day revealed no sign of any of them.

_No one can steal him if they don't know where he is._ Clarkson sighed in relief. She didn't have to worry about Lucky; they could take care of him. The creatures had shown a very high level of intelligence during the ordeal. They had an awareness of other's thoughts – shown by Lucky knowing she couldn't see the girl in the vent while he could.

The biggest observation made her head spin… they pointed.

Most people wouldn't think much about that, but it had huge implications. Contrary to popular belief, monkeys and apes don't point. Pointing indicates you want someone to focus their attention on something. It is a pro-active way of teaching. All other animals learn by watching, the adults don't actively teach their young. Humans are the only specie to actively teach others. Correction… _were _the only _known_ specie to actively teach other_s_.

Ann Clarkson took a deep breath and contemplated the possible consequences of this knowledge. She had found another species that could be a human's equal in intelligence. The human race has never had a good record of getting along with others that were different. What would the reaction be? Fear… Of something that was just as smart, but also bigger and stronger? Hell yes. And everyone knew that fear often lead to anger and hatred.

Was this the reason no one had seen them until now? Because they didn't want to be seen?

Was the world ready for this…?

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I got the name of the hospital from Google & chose it since it's closest to the harbor (I think, not to good with landmarks on maps).

Komodo dragons: The biggest lizard in the world. Grows to 10 feet (3 meters) and 300 pounds (136kg) with deadly bacteria in its saliva.

Quotation marks used it newspaper headlines are like people doing quotation marks when they speak. It's a way to label someone or something without getting in trouble over it.

I saw the part about pointing on the Discovery Channel a few years ago, research may have changed that knowledge.

**This is not the last chapter. There will be at least one more. **


	16. The Trial

**Author's Notes: **Thanks to ArkansanDragon for being my beta.

Sorry to those that tried to reach me, but FFnet decided to disable all of my alerts, again. I was wondering why I wasn't getting anything for a while.

(Author holds the new chapter in front of her face as a shield ... looks at the starved and drooling readers... throw chapter at readers and escapes the mêlée to grab it)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own… please don't sue. If I did, it would still be running with the original animation and the guy that came up with the idea for _Homecoming_ (the ending at least) would be looking for a new job. I only own the characters I made up.

* * *

_Previously on _A Race to Protect

_Ann Clarkson took a deep breath and contemplated the possible consequences of this knowledge. She had found another species that could be a human's equal in intelligence. The human race has never had a good record of getting along with others that were different. What would the reaction be? Fear… Of something that was just as smart, but also bigger and stronger? Hell yes. And everyone knew that fear often lead to anger and hatred. _

_Was this the reason no one had seen them until now? Because they didn't _want _to be seen?_

_

* * *

_

**A Race to Protect **

**Chapter 16: The Trial **

_Several days later. Huntsclan headquarters: High Council Chambers._

Thorn stood in the large room decorated with Huntsclan banners and various magical creature trophies. The one that chilled her the most was the large dragon skeleton hanging from the ceiling. She made a determined effort not to look up.

Aside from the décor the area looked like a formal courtroom except there was no jury box. In most instances in the Huntsclan, if you broke the rules you were punished (or not) by your immediate superior. In her case, that would be her uncle.

When Steven got back – after hearing about the exposure – Huntsgirl told him what she had done. There was no point in trying to hide the fact that she had aided a dragon to rescue another and having no pelts to show for it. If the boys didn't tell him at some point, Richard surely would have. Thorn had calmly outlined why she had done it (based on the reasons she had told Richard, not the actual ones) and despite her opinion of the Huntsmaster not being able to see past his nose when it came to dragons, he admitted that she had a point and done the Huntsclan a service. There would be no punishment on the provision that she tell no one what had transpired.

That should have been the end of the matter, but she had forgotten one thing: Richard. Or more precisely, his father that sat on the High Council.

It wasn't the fact that she had committed the Clan's equivalent of treason that the young man was angry at her, it was because he knew he was the reason the dragons were exposed in the first place. Someone was going to have to take the consequences for that, and it wasn't going to be him!

In high profile or complicated cases, the High Council was judge, jury and (if required) executioner. _I should have run when they came to the lair_, the accused girl thought. Except she hadn't known who the men were or what they had wanted at the time. It was only after Steven, #88, #89 and Thorn had been escorted to a van that they told her she was accused of aiding dragons and to be transported to the High Council Chamber for her trial. Steven had exploded, bellowing that as her superior it was his job to hand out her sentence and they had no grounds to interfere with that right. The men had briskly told him that his right to judge and punish her for this crime had been revoked by a member of the High Council and he could either cooperate or get barred from the proceedings. Huntsmaster had glowered and fumed the rest of the way.

So here she was. Made to stand in front of a two-tiered pew that had thirteen seats, each of them filled with intimidating Hunts- men and women. Huntsgirl had been stripped of her mask; she couldn't decide whether that was so the council could read her expressions, to intimidate her or both. If it was for intimidation, it was very effective.

The man in the center of the upper row stood up and pounded the butt of his staff on the ground. The din of chatter and whispers fell silent.

"This trial has been convened to judge the guilt or innocence of the accused, Thorn aka Huntsgirl, of the crime of aiding and abetting magical creatures, notably dragons. Will the witness to the alleged crime step forward and recount the events." The councillor was able to be heard in every corner of the chamber in an authoritative tone without straining his voice or yelling. No surprise why he was chosen as the council's speaker.

Richard strutted towards the members like he was the most important man on the face of the planet. God, she wanted to strangle the smug bastard. He bowed low to the council and took a deep breath to begin his speech. If Thorn was expecting an accurate account of events from him, she might as well have expected Huntsmaster to wear a tutu on his next hunt.

"As I was coming back from a successful night of imparting my wisdom to younger brothers of the Huntsclan, we came across the American Dragon. With no intention of hunting that night I had not brought the proper dragon hunting equipment such as the Sphinx hair net for fear of breaking them during lessons." _You forgot them, you mean_. Huntsgirl thought snidely.

"As a proud member of the Clan, I could not ignore the vile creature just because I was ill-equipped for the task at the time." _Of course not. Better to charge in like a moron instead of sending one of the boys back to the lair while you tracked him_. "Knowing there was just one of us that had the proper training to take down the beast safely, I used my stealth to dart him with a chemical to render him unconscious and to keep him in his dragon form in order harvest his skull, claws and pelt. Unfortunately, he managed to elude us within the maze of buildings due to the growing darkness." _You tranquilized him and _still _lost him_.

"As we got back to the lair, we were just in time to hear on the news that the dragon had been found by civilians and was in the care of a local veterinarian. Thorn," Richard pointed his finger accusingly at the girl, "locked me up on some farce that I had somehow made an error in my judgment and ran off with the impressionable boys to _rescue_ the beast!

After Huntsmaster returned from his trip, he did nothing to punish her even after her confession of the crime. Nothing! High Council, this is a clear case of nepotism. He was never going to punish her because she is his relative and charge. While I applaud such loyalty to kin, the crime is so appalling that it cannot be ignored under any circumstance." The young man took a deep breath after his tirade, bowed again, and strutted back to his seat.

A lean man in the last seat on the upper level stood up and proceeded to speak in a reedy voice with a British accent. "Due to the witness's testimony (he glanced at Richard, who nodded and smirked in return) and the prior confession, there is little need for deliberation amongst the council. The accused is guilty of the charge of aiding dragons and sentenced to be executed!"

"Hey! Doesn't the reason behind the rescue matter at all?" Huntsgirl had been gob-smacked at the declaration. The council was supposed to ask questions and discuss the motives. After all, there had been instances where the accused were pardoned for working with the magical community because the outcome was in the Clan's interest. Okay, none of the cases included rescuing a dragon… but the precedent was there. The man had to have been Richards' father, Thorn hadn't missed that nod.

"No! Aiding dragons is against every fundamental code of the Huntsclan. No matter the motive for doing so!"

"Even if it was for the best interest of the Huntsclan!" she challenged. Thorn wasn't going down without a fight.

"Even if it was… how could rescuing a dragon be of use to the Clan?" Richards' father blinked in surprise. It didn't matter if it was because he didn't expect that question, or he was stunned by her nerve to challenge him at all. Whatever the reason, it gave her the opening she needed.

"Has anyone thought of what would happen if the magical community was exposed, or what it would mean for the Huntsclan?" Looking around, Thorn saw many people looking bewildered by the question. They had assumed it would never happen. Or if it did, it wouldn't affect them.

"If the American Dragon was taken by the government the _best_ thing that could have happened would be for them to dissect him before he could open his mouth." Rose mentally winced at the thought. "However, they still would have realized that if there is one, there will be many others. That will cause the animal activists to label it as a protected species. Which would make our activities illegal if any of us are caught. Also, it would be a given that certain people would pay a lot of money for pieces of a dragon like they do for tigers and bears. This would make our activities prone to discovery. We have not been discovered yet because no one's been looking for us." The young woman took a breath and was glad she still had everyone's attention. Good.

"The worst scenario – and the most likely – would have been the dragon telling the government about us. They would see the beast as a victim in attempted genocide. I leave to your imaginations what negative impacts that could have on the Huntsclan.

Councillors, tell me how my reasoning for the rescue was flawed." Thorn internally smirked at the sight of the reedy man opening and closing his mouth like a stunned fish before sitting down.

"It appears," an old female member started as she rose with the help of her staff, "that this young hunter had done the Huntsclan a great service. Few have wondered what would become of us if the magical community was exposed. Personally, I thought it was only a matter of time once things like the video camera and the Internet were invented. Tell me young one, does anyone involved know that dragons can talk?" The elderly woman met Thorn's gaze and the young woman saw respect, warmth… and amusement in her eyes.

"No, Councillor. He was gagged or unconscious during most of the event and the other dragons made every effort not to speak in front of anybody, including Dr Clarkson."

"Then we can safely assume they think dragons are nothing more than intelligent animals and the magical community wish to keep up that charade, at least for now. As you rightly said; the best result of the whole debacle. With my fellow Council members' agreement I wish to end this trial on the ground that the accuseds' actions were justifiable under the circumstances."

The twelve members discussed the matter amounts themselves (Richards' father just glared at her) before the speaker stood up again. "We, the High Council, find the accused, Thorn aka Huntsgirl, to be innocent of the crime of treason due to the unique set of circumstances. Furthermore," he had to slam the butt of his staff on the ground to stop the increasing chatter, "due to her foresight, quick wit and ability to adapt to the changing situation several members have approved recognition of her service to the Huntsclan by awarding her the Huntstar Medal. This trial is adjourned!"

_

* * *

Outside the High Council Chambers _

Thorn came out of her stupor when #88 and #89 almost suffocated her with their congratulation hugs. She was still too dazed and happy to worry that their hands were a little lower than necessary. Once the boys noticed her uncle looking at her, they moved aside.

Steven placed a hand on her shoulder. "As much as I frown on the actions you took, you did them with the Clan's best interest at heart and didn't let your hatred for the foul beasts to distract you from the task. I do not think I would have had such willpower." His expression beneath the skull darkened. "Be warned, you have made a powerful enemy today. Robert is vain, arrogant and can hold a grudge for decades. Watch your step with him."

"Don't worry, dear. That self-absorbed oaf will not be your problem." Huntsgirl spun around at the familiar voice. It was the old council member that had supported her. Steven quickly bowed and started to stutter an apology for the insult. The woman waved him off. "You were right to warn her. Unfortunately, our occupation isn't the only thing that can get us killed. You don't live to be my age without realizing sometimes it's safer to trust a dragon then your 'friends'." She said the last word with a sneer.

"If you don't have any pressing engagements, I would like a word with you." Although her tone suggested the old lady wouldn't be offended if she declined, Thorn thought it would be prudent to accept the invitation. Steven bowed out, muttering he'd wait outside for her. The older woman began to steer Huntsgirl down a hall.

"Thank you for helping me. And for… recommending the award. Although I don't believe I did anything particularly special." Huntsgirl was certain the old woman was one of the 'several members' that approved the award. The Huntstar Medal was only given out if the recipient displayed tremendous courage or skill during an engagement with the enemy and more commonly given to those who died in battle. Not to mention she was probably the youngest – living or dead – to ever receive one.

"Nothing special? You had the foresight to think of the consequences of the magical community being exposed. Very few would even consider the possibilities or see the threats that can result. You were clever enough to realize that the dragons would see the threats they faced and be willing to accept aid from just about anyone, even one of us. You managed to approach them in such a way that they would trust you to complete the mission without stabbing them in the back. The mission itself was successful – no easy feat when you're moving an injured dragon. And you accomplished all of it without getting sidetracked by your knowledge that you were aiding dragons. Most hunters can't put their emotions aside and will attack a dragon even if he knows it will end in his own death."

The councillor motioned the younger woman into an office and into a seat at a low coffee table while she slowly settled in to other chair. "It's that last reason that I wanted to speak with you, Thorn. Tell me, what do you know of the Hunts-shadow?"

Thorn had to think for a few moments before she could remember her lessons as a small child. "They are a branch of the Huntsclan that deals with the magical community. When the Clan first started, they realized that banning the use of magical items and potions were useless because individuals would do it regardless to make their jobs or personal lives easier. So the Hunts-shadow was formed to deal with it so there was no 'underground black market' within the Huntsclan. To deal with magical items they needed to trade with the magical community. The Hunts-shadow couldn't go around slaying those who traded the goods with them because they would receive the same distrust the regular hunters acquired. They solved that problem by forbidding the Hunts-shadow from participating in hunts or catching creatures for hunts. The branch continues to this day." _Although, I don't see the point when every man and his dog is doing it_. She distinctly remembered her uncle trading with trolls and leprechauns on various occasions.

The old woman smirked. "We do far more than that." _Did she just say 'we'?_ "Think of us as the FBI… no, the CIA. We deal with intelligence, espionage and undercover work. How do you think the Clan knows where dragons live, who they are and any contacts they have? Us, of course.

That's where you come in, if you want the position. I've read your file, dear. You already seem to have a rapport with the American Dragon. That will be a huge benefit when trying to find out what that Dragon Council of theirs is going to do about this exposure fiasco. Also, you've met this Dr Clarkson and saved her life. If the local government asks her opinion when discussing what to do about the dragons – and they will if they have any brains – she might tell you before they go public."

"You don't want me to find out who he is first?" Rose could have punched herself. _Nice one, put ideas in her head, why don't you. _

Her companion snorted. "No. We already know he is the former Chinese Dragon's grandson; whose identity is already known to us. It would be child's play to find out the kid's identity if we wanted to. Keeping tabs on the country's designated dragon is far more important to us than slaying them. There is usually a hub of magical activity around where they live and they know – more or less – what their council is doing. If they die, we need to search for the new dragon all over again. And that could take years. We'd prefer he stayed kicking; he's far too useful to us alive then dead."

The elderly clanswoman rolled her neck and stretched her limbs until small pops could be heard. "You don't need to give an answer now. But remember, hunting tends to get old real fast for people like us and our jobs are far more interesting."

Huntsgirl had already made up her mind. She would ask Jake's grandfather how her new position could benefit the magical community.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** If anyone has a better name for the Hunts-shadow or the medal, please let me know. The only thing I want to keep is the 'Hunts' part of the name. They seem to love putting that with everything.

Also,** this is not the last chapter** (even though I said it was in the prior chapter). I want to show the aftermath the exposure on the magical community and the non-magical community. I still have no fixed answer on how that will pan out so any suggestions are welcome. I still need it to fit in with my sequel I'm in the process of writing (I'll give you a snippet on the last chapter).

Farce = a foolish show, mockery.

Nepotism = giving jobs or positions to friends and family over a person with better qualifications.

Precedent = an event or case which may serve as an example or reason for future action.

Genocide = the planned killing of a whole national or racial group.

Rapport = close connection.

It is my understanding that it is the CIA that deals with foreign governments, countries and espionage; not the FBI. To the Huntsclan the Dragon Council and the magical community would be like a foreign government and country.


	17. Hold Your Breath

**Author's Notes: **Thanks to ArkansanDragon for being my beta.

Yay for me! I have graduated my Bachelor of Business degree! I am now a qualified Accountant. Now I have to get a job and move out of home... sigh.

Three months later and I now have a job doing individual tax returns!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own… please don't sue. If I did, it would still be running with the original animation and the guy that came up with the idea for _Homecoming_ (the ending at least) would be looking for a new job. I only own the characters I made up.

* * *

_Previously on _A Race to Protect

"_That's where you come in, if you want the position. I've read your file, dear. You already seem to have a rapport with the American Dragon. That will be a huge benefit when trying to find out what that Dragon Council of theirs is going to do about this exposure fiasco. Also, you've met this Dr Clarkson and saved her life. If the local government asks her opinion when discussing what to do about the dragons – and they will if they have any brains – she might tell you before they go public." _

_Huntsgirl had already made up her mind. She would ask Jake's grandfather how her new position could benefit the magical community._

* * *

**A Race to Protect **

**Chapter 17: Hold Your Breath **

_Several days after the rescue. Canal Street Electronics _

Councillor Andam of Africa and Councillor Kulde of Europe – the same two Council members that had been captured by the Huntsman on Halloween a few years ago – had teleported into the shop the day of Jake's rescue. To his great relief, they weren't there to strip him of his powers again.

Unlike the Huntsclan, the Dragon Council had been planning what their actions would be if the magical community were discovered by humans for many years. The scenarios ranged from peaceful acceptance (very unlikely), to all-out war (the likelihood changed with the leaders of the most influential nations). After obtaining the accounts of the four dragons, Kulde had muttered not foreseeing this particular outcome – and only the American Dragon could pull something that unlikely off. Yes, dragons were exposed to the world, but the magical community had not been.

The resident dragons were told to ignore anyone that spotted them and calmly leave if approached – for the time being. The pair left the same way they came, needing to confer with the rest of the council and wait to see what the world's reaction would be.

That left Jake 'recovering from chickenpox' and bored for the next few days. Well... not completely. He _was_ on TV after all.

To the amazement of the magical community (and ire of the Huntsclan) the Chinese, Japanese and several other Asian governments declared that dragons were sacred and therefore, harming one would result in the death penalty.  
The United States was more conservative; passing a Bill putting dragons on the endangered species list when they were satisfied it was not a hoax. This was to give scientists time to do a population count, as well as gather data such as habitat and diet without the public shooting them to extinction for sport or profit.

Neither the government, nor the magical community should have worried about a mass panic. It turned out that up to a third of the population of most countries had seen dragons and had learned not to pay any attention to them.

The police had some success with assuring the public that they had nothing to fear from their newly discovered neighbors. The footage of his little sister dragging the divers back to the boat and lapping up the praise afterwards gave them the 'gentle giant' appearance. Furthermore, the more rational portion of the public came to the conclusion that if dragons were aggressive towards humans they would have been noticed by now. There would be only so many victims with injuries you could discount and distinctive markings on bodies would have excluded other known animals. Neither of these had been noticed by hospitals or law enforcement, thus dragon attacks were unlikely.

Following the 'avoid humans' order seemed easy when first issued, they'd been doing it for about 5,000 years. Not so easy when humans were actively looking for them. The adults mostly gave dragons a wide berth when spotted. The braver ones got closer to take pictures, and then scuttled back to a safe distance. Children... not so much.

By the time a dragon knew they had been spotted, the child was either on them or too close for them to make a quick escape without frightening the little one. Unsure of how to deal with the situation, the majority of the winged creatures allowed the child(ren) to climb on them, pull their tail and ears (so long as they didn't hit the sensitive spot) and generally treat them as the family dog until they were bored or called off by a relieved parent. It was this tolerance and gentleness towards children that won over most of the world. Websites like YouTube and various blogging sites were flooded with videos of dragons being poked and prodded by kids all over the world. Most adults that tried this found themselves viewing the dragons retreating backside.

* * *

_Several weeks later. _

It never ceased to amaze Ann on how the human race can adapt to change. A few weeks ago (was it only a few weeks?) dragons were relegated to myth and legend. Now it was like going whale-watching! Media vans still showed up at every sighting and there was a snippet at least once a day on TV, but life went on. Once the dragon flew away, everyone went back to whatever they had been doing.

Of course there were fear mongers and malcontents – people who spouted fear and hatred towards the creatures just because they could. But like most fanatics, they were frowned upon and shunned. Clarkson gave herself stitches when she viewed one of the delusional sods getting sneezed on by a dragon when he tried to provoke an attack by throwing ground pepper at it. The beast then used the man's coat as a handkerchief and left the snot covered dope in favor of a higher perch.

Dr Clarkson had been offered a place within a scientific team to study everything from the creatures' habitat and diet to behavior and the effects from living in urban environments. She suspected the reason the government was moving so fast on the issue was because of the dragons' close proximity to large numbers of people. They would never have moved that fast if mermaid-like creatures had been discovered deep in the ocean! _I've been watching too much Discovery Channel_. She mussed at that last thought.

Stella popped her head into her office, grinning "Doc, there's another sighting over the road. I think you'd want to see this one."

Mildly confused, Ann followed her receptionist outside. Stella has stopped bothering her about sightings in the first week. Besides, if you weren't quick the dragon flew away when there were too many onlookers. There was a large crowd staring up at a low rooftop a few blocks from the clinic. She frowned; most dragons would have left the area by now. Was this one injured? Sick? Clarkson shoved her way to the best vantage point, the roof of a 4WD. The doctor almost made a very unprofessional squeal of delight. It was Lucky.

Ann hadn't seen or heard him being seen since the kidnapping. She knew he was alright – the young woman in the ninja outfit appeared at her apartment window and told her so. She had believed the girl because she had shown genuine concern for him during the rescue, despite trying to hide it (most likely from the boys she was with if they were indeed trainee poaches). It was one thing to know something; it was another to have it confirmed with your own eyes.

And he wasn't sick or injured. He appeared to be enjoying being the center of attention. He would stand up straight, puff out his chest and shoot plumes of fire up into the air. After a few minutes of posing the young dragon took to the air and performed several lazy loops and rolls around the vicinity. _Typical male_, the doctor snorted as she jumped down and headed for the buildings' fire escape.

When she got to the roof, Lucky was sitting calmly a few feet away from the ladder. Ann slowly approached and extended her hand towards his chest. "Hello boy. You remember me, don't you?" Despite how intelligent she suspected they were, there was a possibility that one human looked very similar to the next as far as dragons were concerned. Thus, he might not recognize her at all. Lucky's ears perked and lowered his head for her to scratch. Breathing a sigh of relief, Ann gave in to his request. Now that she was close, the doctor could see he had recovered well from his injuries. There wasn't even evidence of scarring.

"I don't know if you can understand me – or if you can rely if you could – but I can guess why your kind avoided people for so long. We've never been very good at playing nice with other species…hell, we're still not good at playing nice with our own. There would be a lot of people wanting to exploit that high intellect you possess. And even more would fear it. As much as I would love answers to all my questions, I think it would be safer for you if I didn't ask. I probably know too much already." The doctor smirked. "Or I could be reading _way_ too much into my 'evidence' and should team up with a certain monocle wearing German spouting off half-baked crackpot theories."

The doctor inhaled after her small speech and stepped back. Lucky had his head cocked, as if he was analyzing her. Turning around, he rummaged through what looked like a backpack propped against the ledge. Finding whatever it was, the dragon opened his claw and offered it to her. The woman picked the shiny gold item up and studied it. It was a whistle about the size of her forefinger shaped like an eastern dragon. Looking up to ask what it was for out of reflex, Ann noticed he was nowhere to be seen.

She pocketed the whistle and climbed down the ladder, heading back to her clinic to finish work. She was still waiting on the lab results from the scales and had a paper to write for the scientific community…

**THE END**

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Malcontent = not satisfied or content with currently prevailing conditions or circumstances. I think it's to describe people that complain for the sake of complaining.

I did it! It's finished! (does happy dance). Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed!

There will be a sequel (and possibly short stories within the same universe).

The sequel is called _Dragon Instinct_s and I'll develop it more before I start posting so it doesn't take another _4 or so_ years to finish.

* * *

_Preview of _Dragon Instincts_: _

_He took that as his cue to start. "A colleague of mine has recently invented and tested a serum that could prove useful to us. Unfortunately his funding was cut off when he didn't provide anything his department thought of value. He calls it Dragon Elixir; the potion allows the drinker the complete form and powers of a dragon for a month. Since he had no further use for them he gave the remaining bottles to me to use as I saw fit. I find disposing of them would be wasteful and have asked Steven," Phen motioned to her uncle, "permission to conduct experiments of my own with one of the students." _

_Huntsgirl took a sharp breath._ A dragon for a month? One of the students? He can't mean…


End file.
